at his taunt. ‘Don’t worry, Max—I’m going. And I never want to see you again!’ She breathed agitatedly.
He gave a grim smile. ‘No chance of that happening, I’m afraid, January,’ he drawled. ‘After all, I’m still negotiating on behalf of the Marshall Corporation to buy your family farm.’
‘Over my dead body!’ she told him with feeling.
‘If you insist on driving in snowstorms—that might very well be the case,’ he mocked dryly.
She had to go. Now. Before she totally humiliated herself and began to cry!
‘Take care, January,’ Max murmured softly. ‘I hope you sleep well,’ he added tauntingly.
She gave a pained frown at this last comment, turning sharply on her heel and almost running from the room, only lingering long enough to grab her coat from the floor where it had fallen before hurrying from the hotel suite as if the devil himself were at her heels.
He was hateful. Horrible. The most horrible man she had ever met in her life!
How could she have been so stupid?
How could she have so totally misjudged a person?
How—?
‘January…?’
She looked up frowningly as she crossed the reception area of the hotel, her brow clearing slightly as she recognized John, the barman, obviously just coming in for his evening shift.
He looked at her concernedly. ‘Hey, are you okay?’
Okay? She might never be ‘okay’ again!
‘Fine,’ she assured him huskily, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt.
She had straightened her hair a little while travelling down in the lift, but she hadn’t been able to do anything about the paleness of her face, or that slightly bruised look to her lips.
‘You don’t look okay.’ Obviously John wasn’t fooled for a minute, still frowning his concern. ‘Come through to the bar and have a brandy,’ he encouraged worriedly.
She gave a humourless laugh, shaking her head. ‘I won’t, if you don’t mind. I’ve already had one accident today,’ she explained ruefully. ‘My sister will kill me if I prang her car, too!’
His eyes widened. ‘You’ve been involved in an accident?’
‘Only with a ditch.’ She grimaced. ‘I really do have to go, John,’ she apologized lightly. ‘Is it still snowing?’ She really had no idea how long she had been in Max’s hotel suite, or what the weather was like, either!
‘No, it’s stopped,’ John told her distractedly. ‘You really don’t look well, January, are you sure you wouldn’t like me to get someone to take over in the bar for me for a couple of hours and drive you home?’
‘That’s very kind of you.’ She touched his arm gratefully. ‘But no,’ she insisted. ‘I drove here, I can drive back.’
‘Meridew didn’t call you in, did he?’ John muttered disgustedly.
‘No, nothing like that.’ She avoided his concerned gaze. ‘I really do have to go, John,’ she told him briskly. ‘Have a good evening!’ She hurried away before he could delay her further.
Or question her further! The fewer people who knew she had been stupid enough to visit Max in his hotel suite, the better!
It was bad enough that she knew. That she was totally aware of what an idiot she had been. Of how totally she had misjudged Max’s true nature.
Well, she wouldn’t make that mistake again. In fact, she meant it when she said she hoped she never saw him again!
Good, Max. Very good, he congratulated himself as he still lay back on the bed. He had deliberately set out to make January dislike him—and he had succeeded!
Only too well.
The look of loathing she had given him before leaving told him that she didn’t just dislike him, she hated him.
Well, it was what he wanted, wasn’t it?
Of course it was.
He had deliberately set out to break those tenuous emotional ties with her, to make sure that there was no further conflict of interest. Now that he knew January was one of the Calendar sisters, and Jude refused to give up on buying the Calendar farm, it had been the only thing he could have done.
Then why did he feel so miserable at having succeeded in what he set out to do? Because he did feel miserable. More miserable than he had felt in his life before. Ever. And that included having his mother walk out on his father and him when he was only five years old.
He wasn’t naïve, knew that early experience had tempered his future relationships with women, his decision never to fall in love, never to trust any woman enough to lay himself open to that vulnerability.
But in all honesty he couldn’t even remember what his mother looked like any more. It was only the devastating loneliness of her desertion that stayed with him. Always.
Well, he certainly had nothing further to worry about in that way where January was concerned; she had really meant it when she said she never wanted to see him again.
Why did that hurt so much?
Because it wasn’t lust he felt for January at all, because he—
He had to get out of here, Max decided, standing up compulsively; even he couldn’t stand his own company at this particular moment! He needed to do something, go somewhere, anything to distract his thoughts from January and the way he had deliberately hurt her.
It was almost nine o’clock, he discovered when he got downstairs, but even so John was alone in the bar when Max walked into the room. Which suited his mood perfectly; the last thing he felt in the mood for at the moment was a lot of chattering people around him having fun!
‘A large whisky,’ he requested as he sat down on one of the bar stools.
‘Lousy weather, isn’t it?’ John placed the drink on the bar in front of Max.
‘Looks as if you’ll have a quiet evening.’ Max nodded grimly, taking a large gulp of the fiery alcohol. ‘Don’t you ever have an evening off?’ he prompted abruptly; he might not feel like having chattering people around him, but his own exclusive company wasn’t what he wanted at the moment either!
John grinned. ‘Mondays and Tuesdays.’
Max grimaced. ‘That must play havoc with your social life?’
‘What social life?’ John dismissed pointedly. ‘Still, it’s a job, which is more than a lot of people have.’ He shrugged. ‘You missed January, earlier, by the way,’ he added lightly as he moved along the bar filling up the bowls of nuts.
Max stiffened just at the sound of her name. So much for getting out of his hotel
