her, his gray eyes watchful.
“I was going to tell you when you got out of the shower, but Yvette arrived earlier than I expected,” he said.
“Sure,” she said. She even managed a casual shrug. “I understand.”
“I know how important your career is to you. The last thing I want is to hold you back by using up all your spare time,” he said.
The clatter of Yvette reentering the apartment claimed his attention.
“You can change in the bathroom. There’s a robe you can use, if you’d like,” he offered, moving away.
Maddy’s hands clenched around the bed frame. Now he was offering Yvette his robe—the same robe Maddy had been wearing only yesterday.
She had a sudden vision of how the next few hours would play out—Max and Yvette locked in intense artistic communion as he sketched her naked body, with Maddy lurking on the fringes of the apartment like a female Quasimodo minus a bell tower.
She shot to her feet.
“I’m going out,” she said.
Both Yvette and Max looked a little nonplussed by her sudden announcement.
“I need pajamas,” she explained. She started winding her scarf around her neck.
“Okay. Don’t forget to take the spare key. I might not be around later,” Max said.
She nodded, but he was already turning away to organize his supplies. Probably eager to get to the part where he got to stare at Yvette’s naked body for hours on end.
She knew she was being unfair, even irrational, but right at this minute her rational self seemed to have checked out of Hotel Maddy.
She had to get out of here before she did or said something stupid—such as going over and kissing Max right in front of the other woman, so Yvette knew to keep her distance.
Nuts. Absolutely crackers.
She grabbed her coat and purse and strode for the door.
“It was lovely meeting you, Ms. Green. An honor,” Yvette called after her.
Maddy glanced over her shoulder. Yvette was holding Max’s robe, the deep red silk flowing from her hands, her beautiful face smiling and hopeful.
“You, too,” Maddy said, even though it nearly killed her. After all, it wasn’t Yvette’s fault she was beautiful and limber and sexy. Well, mostly.
Maddy stood in the street and stuffed her hands deep into her pockets, tucking her chin into the folds of her scarf. She had a powerful urge to kick something. Preferably herself.
What was she doing? Sleeping with Max, getting jealous over other women, obsessing over him. He. Was. Her. Friend. When was her thick subconscious going to get the message?
She started up the street, but she hadn’t walked more than ten paces before Max called out her name.
Her stomach did an absurd little flip. She swiveled on her heel, her gaze flying to where he stood on the doorstep, the cordless phone in hand.
“My sister wants to know if we’d like to come to dinner tonight,” he said.
Maddy stared at him for a long beat, but he didn’t say anything else.
“That would be nice,” she said.
“Okay. Have fun.” He threw her a casual wave before ducking back into the apartment. Maddy stared at the closed door for a long beat.
What had she expected him to say? Maddy, I’m sorry. The only reason I replaced you is because I can’t bear looking at you and not touching you, especially after last night? You’re so sexy, I don’t know why I never noticed before, you’re driving me crazy.
She made a disgusted sound at her own idiocy. The last thing she wanted was Max making any such declaration because that would mean he cared for her, that he wanted things from her that she didn’t have to give. It would be a disaster in the making, the beginning of the end.
Confused, angry, determined, Maddy walked away.
MAX SHIFTED the wine bottle from one hand to the other and wiped his damp palm on the thigh of his jeans. He’d like to blame his clammy hands on condensation on the bottle, but the truth was he was nervous about the night ahead.
He could hear Maddy climbing the stairs to his sister’s apartment behind him, the heels of her boots striking the marble steps sharply.
Despite the fact that he and Maddy had lived together for nearly two years, she’d never met his sister. He’d gone to great pains to ensure that was the case—Charlotte was nothing if not perceptive. The last thing he’d wanted or needed was her guessing how he felt about his housemate.
Some things never changed, it seemed.
“I forgot to ask, how did things go with Yvette today?” Maddy asked as she drew alongside him on the landing.
He knocked on his sister’s door.
“It was good. Fine. She was a little nervous, but we’ll get there.”
She wasn’t Maddy. She didn’t have Maddy’s grace or style. But he also didn’t feel the stir of arousal every time he looked at her. Yvette was an attractive woman—but she was not the woman he wanted. Consequently, the morning had gone blessedly smoothly. And there had definitely been no need for cold showers afterward.
“Good. I’m glad it worked out.”
Maddy smoothed her scarf and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked nervous, he realized.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to meet your sister,” she said. “Does she look much like you?”
“She has dark hair. But she’s a lot prettier.”
“I doubt that,” she said. Then she bit her lip and looked away.
The door swung open and warm air rich with savory cooking smells swept out to greet them.
“Sorry. I was just taking the soufflés out of the oven. Come in,” Charlotte said.
They followed her inside and Charlotte gave Maddy a brief but thorough head to toe as they shrugged out of their coats.
“Charlotte,” she said, thrusting out a hand. “Max says you’re a dancer, Maddy. From Australia.”
“That’s right,” Maddy said, shaking hands. “Max and I used to live with each other back in the day.”
His sister’s gaze swiveled around to impale him.
“Max didn’t mention that,” Charlotte said.
Now Maddy was watching him.
“Didn’t you say you just took the soufflés out of the oven?” he asked.
