His Cinderella Mistress. Carole Mortimer
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In fact, Peter Meridew had had cause to speak to Josh and several of his friends before the end of the evening, claiming their rowdiness was disturbing the other guests.
Max gave her a look that told her precisely how unfunny he had found the whole incident, too!
Peter Meridew was one thing, but what did it really matter what Max thought? Or said, for that matter. He was a guest at the hotel—for how long, she had no idea—but pretty soon he was going to move on. And when he did, he was not going to leave a broken-hearted singer/farmer behind him!
Because she would be deceiving herself if she didn’t admit—inwardly, at least!—that she had found his earlier behaviour, in jumping to her supposed rescue, highly chivalrous. An old-fashioned description, perhaps, but that was exactly how it had seemed at the time. No wonder those ladies of old had swooned into the arms of their saviour! And she didn’t doubt for a moment that Max would have carried out his intention to knock Josh to the floor if she hadn’t stepped in and explained the situation.
‘It’s late.’ She gave a weary sigh, pushing her long dark hair back over her shoulder, looking over to give John a sympathetic smile as he cleaned the bar prior to his own shift ending for the night. ‘I really should be on my way.’ She wasn’t as late as last night, obviously, but she definitely felt more tired.
More emotional? Possibly. One thing she did know: she had better get herself as far away from Max as possible—now!—or risk giving in to that emotion.
Max gave an inclination of his head, his gaze once more as intense as it had been the previous evening. ‘You do look as if you’ve had enough for one night, would you allow me to order you a taxi?’
She gave a rueful smile. ‘There would be little point in that.’ Tempting as the offer was to relinquish the hour-long drive into someone else’s more than capable hands. ‘I don’t work tomorrow evening, so it would simply mean another drive out tomorrow to pick up my car.’
‘I wouldn’t mind picking you up.’ Max shrugged. ‘That way, you could introduce me to the rest of your family,’ he added pointedly.
And that way he would no longer be the ‘complete stranger’ to them she had accused him of being earlier! Very clever, she acknowledged admiringly—if totally out of the question.
‘I don’t think so, thanks.’ She smiled as she stood up to put an end to the conversation.
Max stood up, too, easily towering over her. ‘It really isn’t a problem,’ he assured her smoothly. ‘Besides, John was telling me earlier that you have some sort of stalker in the area…?’ He frowned as the two of them gave the barman a friendly wave before walking out into the reception area.
He did have a point there. So far, the Night Striker had only attacked women in quiet, country areas, and while the hotel car park hardly qualified as that it was pretty deserted this time of night…
‘Hmm,’ she acknowledged with a grimace. ‘Six attacks in the last six months.’
Max’s eyes darkened at the knowledge. ‘Then, if you really do insist on driving yourself home…? That’s what I thought,’ he acknowledged dryly as she gave an affirmative nod. ‘In that case, there is no way I’m going to let you walk out to the car park alone while I go upstairs to my warm and cosy hotel suite.’
‘It’s quite well lit,’ she assured him.
‘I still don’t feel happy about letting you walk to your car unescorted,’ he insisted firmly.
She could see by his determined expression that it would be no use pointing out that it was something she normally did three nights of the week. Every week. That she would do again once he had left the hotel…
‘You’re starting to sound like my elder sister May now!’ January teased as Max moved to drape her coat around her shoulders in preparation for going outside in the cold winter air.
He gave a start of surprise. ‘I’m not sure I like sounding like someone’s elder sister!’
January laughed softly. ‘Will it help if I tell you I’m very attached to both my sisters?’
‘It might,’ he conceded slowly. ‘Here, let me help you,’ he offered as she struggled to put her arms into the sleeves of her coat as the cold wind outside penetrated the thin material of her dress.
Helping her into her coat was good manners, January acknowledged frowningly; allowing his arm to drape casually across her shoulders as they walked over to her car was something else entirely!
Not that she wasn’t grateful for the added warmth of his body so close to hers—it was that closeness that bothered her. Disturbed her. Excited her!
She had never met anyone quite like Max before, finding his air of sophistication, his complete air of confidence, those overpoweringly good looks, enticing to say the least.
Admit it, January, she derided herself; you’re intrigued by the man, in spite of yourself!
Intrigued? Her heart was pounding, her pulse racing, the flush that warmed her cheeks owing nothing to the cold and everything to Max’s proximity.
‘I really wasn’t meaning to sound insulting just now when I likened your concern to my elder sister’s.’ She burst into speech in an effort to hide the confused emotions welling up inside her. ‘I—it was rather—endearing,’ she added awkwardly, at the same time glancing across to where her car was parked, quickly gauging how much longer it was going to take to reach it. Not long now, thank goodness. ‘As the youngest of three, I’ve always come in for the biggest amount of sisterly advice. Even March sometimes gets in on the act.’ She grimaced. ‘And she’s known as the more impetuous one of us!’
‘January. March. And May,’ Max repeated slowly. ‘Three months of the year,’ he added speculatively.
‘Oh, that’s easily explained.’ January came to a grateful halt beside her little car, at the same time searching in her bag for her keys. ‘You see—’
‘All I can see at the moment, January, is the most beautiful woman I have ever set eyes on,’ Max cut in harshly. ‘It’s all I’ve been able to see for the last thirty-six hours!’
January looked up at him sharply, becoming suddenly still as she found herself drowning in the fathomless depths of his eyes.
‘January!’ he groaned throatily even as his head lowered and his lips claimed hers, at the same time as his arms moved about the slenderness of her waist to pull her close to the warm hardness of his body.
Drowning must be something like this, January guessed dreamily a few minutes later; the initial fight against the inevitable, before the complete surrender to a force of such strength it was impossible to fight it any longer.
She knew nothing about this man but the little he had told her—the little he had chosen to tell her. She didn’t even know his surname, she realized with a shocked jolt, and yet—
She couldn’t think any more, couldn’t formulate two words together in her brain, could only breathe and feel Max, her body on fire with the desire his kisses engendered.
Her