you started tapping away at your computer.’ Sabrina’s tone was tinged with resentment.
Max let out a long slow breath. ‘I don’t want to argue with you. Now go to—’
‘Why don’t you want to argue with me?’ Her eyes flashed blue sparks. ‘Because you might be tempted to kiss me again?’
He kept his expression under lockdown. ‘We’re not doing this, Sabrina.’
‘Not doing what?’ Her mouth was curved in a mocking manner. ‘You were going to kiss me again, weren’t you? Go on. Admit it.’
Max gave his own version of a smile and shook his head as if he was dealing with a misguided child. ‘No. I was not going to kiss you.’
She straightened her shoulders and folded her arms. ‘Liar.’
Max held her gaze, his body throbbing with need. No one could get him as worked up as her. No one. Their verbal banter was a type of foreplay. When had it started to become like that? For years, their arguments had just been arguments—the clash of two strong-willed personalities. But over the last few months something had changed. Was that why he’d gone to the dinner party of a mutual friend because he’d known she’d be there? Was that why he’d offered to drive her home because her car was being serviced? There had been other people at the dinner who could have taken her but, no, he’d insisted.
He couldn’t even recall what they’d been arguing about on the way home or who had started it. But he remembered all too well how it had ended and he had to do everything in his power to make sure it never happened again. ‘Why would I kiss you again? You don’t want another dose of stubble rash, do you?’
Her combative expression floundered for a moment and her teeth snagged her lower lip. ‘Okay...so I might have been lying about that...’
Max kept his gaze trained on hers. ‘You’re not asking me to kiss you, are you?’
The sparkling light of defiance was back in her eyes. ‘Of course not.’ She gave a spluttering laugh as if the idea was ludicrous. ‘I would rather kiss a cane toad.’
‘Good.’ He slammed his lips shut on the word. ‘Better keep it that way.’
SABRINA STALKED BACK to her bed, climbed in and pulled the covers up to her chin. Of course she’d wanted Max to kiss her. And she was positive he’d wanted to kiss her too. It secretly thrilled her that he found her so attractive. Why wouldn’t it thrill her? She had all the usual female needs and she hadn’t made love with a man since she was eighteen.
Not that what had happened back then could be called, by any stretch of the imagination, making love. It had been selfish one-sided sex. She had been little more than a vessel for her boyfriend to use to satisfy his base needs. She’d naively thought their relationship had been more than that. Much more. She had thought herself in love. She hadn’t wanted her first time to be with someone who didn’t care about her. She had been so sure Brad loved her. He’d even told her he loved her. But as soon as the deed was done he was gone. He’d dumped her and called her horrible names to his friends that still made her cringe and curl up in shame.
Sabrina heard Max preparing for bed. He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, coming out a few minutes later dressed in one of the hotel bathrobes. Was he naked under that robe? Her mind raced with images of his tanned and toned flesh, her body tingling at the thought of lying pinned beneath him in the throes of sizzling hot sex.
She couldn’t imagine Max ever leaving a lover unsatisfied. He only had to look at her and she was halfway to an orgasm. It was embarrassing how much she wanted him. It was like lust had hijacked her body, turning her into a wanton woman who could think of nothing but earthly pleasures. Even now her body felt restless, every nerve taut with the need for touch. His touch. Was it possible to hate someone and want them at the same time? Or was there something wrong with her? Why was she so fiercely attracted to someone she could barely conduct a civil conversation with without it turning into a blistering argument?
But why did they always argue?
And why did she find it so...so stimulating?
It was a little lowering to realise how much she enjoyed their verbal spats. She looked forward to them. She got secretly excited when she knew he was going to be at a function she would be attending, even though she pretended otherwise to her family. No wonder she found joint family functions deadly boring if he didn’t show up. Did she have some sort of disorder? Did she crave negative interaction with him because it was the only way she could get him to notice her?
Sabrina closed her eyes when Max walked past her bed, every pore of her body aware of him. She heard the sheets being pulled back and the sound of him slipping between them. She heard the click of the bedside lamp being switched off and then he let out a sigh that sounded bone-weary.
‘I hope you don’t snore.’ The comment was out before she could stop herself.
He gave a sound that might have been a muttered curse but she couldn’t quite tell. ‘No one’s complained so far.’
A silence ticked, ticked, ticked like an invisible clock.
‘I probably should warn you I’ve been known to sleepwalk,’ Sabrina said.
‘I knew that. Your mother told me.’
She turned over so she was facing his bed. There was enough soft light coming in through the gap in the curtains for her to see him. He was lying on his back with his eyes closed, the sheets pulled to the level of his waist, the gloriously naked musculature of his chest making her mouth water. He looked like a sexy advertisement for luxury bed linen. His tanned skin a stark contrast to the white sheets. ‘When did she tell you?’
‘Years ago.’
Sabrina propped herself up on one elbow. ‘How many years ago?’
He turned his head in her direction and opened one eye. ‘I don’t remember. What does it matter?’
She plucked at the sheet covering her breasts. What else had her mother told him about her? ‘I don’t like the thought of her discussing my private details with you.’
He closed his eye and turned his head back to lie flat on the pillow. ‘Bit late for that, sweetheart.’ His tone was so dry it could have soaked up an oil spill. ‘Your parents have been citing your considerable assets to me ever since you hit puberty.’
Sabrina could feel her cheeks heating. She knew exactly how pushy her parents had been. But so too had his parents. Both families had engineered situations where she and Max would be forced together, especially since his fiancée Lydia had broken up with him just before their wedding six years ago. She even wondered if the family pressure had actually scared poor Lydia off. What woman wanted to marry a man whose parents staunchly believed she wasn’t the right one for him? His parents had hardly been subtle about their hopes. It had been mildly embarrassing at first, but over the years it had become annoying. So annoying that Sabrina had stubbornly refused to acknowledge any of Max’s good qualities.
And he had many now that she thought about it. He was steady in a crisis. He thought before he spoke.
