air?” he echoed doubtfully.
The hot July sun no longer baked the downtown Houston sidewalks, but heat continued to linger even in the shadows cast by the towering buildings. Rachel and Max strolled in silence toward their destination three blocks away—an Irish pub with great food and a relaxed atmosphere.
As they neared the pub, laughter and loud conversation reached them. Despite the day’s humidity, the bar’s outdoor seating was packed with business people enjoying happy hour after a long day. Max glanced at the windows, hung with neon signs advertising Guinness and Harp, and then the oval sign dangling over the front door.
“I’ve never been here before.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Max hit her with a hard look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It doesn’t really seem like your kind of place. And why would you come all the way down here when you’ve got Frey’s in the lobby of your building. That’s more your style.”
“And what do you think my style is?”
Snooty. Overpriced. Pretentious. “Sophisticated.”
He actually laughed. A surprised chuckle that transformed his features into blinding handsomeness. White teeth flashed. His gray eyes sparkled like sunshine on water. And his lips … those gorgeous lips relaxed into glorious, kissable curves.
Rachel almost groaned her appreciation.
“Did you forget the bar where we met? It was pretty low key.” He got a faraway look as if his thoughts went backward to that moment five years earlier when they had locked gazes across a crowded bar.
Just like in the movies. Rachel remembered that first jolt of awareness from twenty feet away. Of course, it had been nothing compared to the sizzle when he’d come over and leaned close to tell her his name. Goose bumps broke out at the memory. Two hours later they’d been in his hotel room ripping each other’s clothes off. She’d never experienced a moment that intense or right with anyone else.
“The food is great here,” she said. “The pints are cold. What more do you need?”
Max opened the heavy wood door for Rachel. As she passed, he asked, “Does your sister know about us?”
Us?
Rachel’s heart stopped at Max’s use of the pronoun.
Inside the pub’s front door was a small foyer that led to a second set of doors. The space kept the sultry outside from infiltrating the air-conditioned inside. Rachel paused between the doors and took advantage of the quiet to answer Max.
“Are you asking does she know that I had a four-day affair with you that ended badly and that you’ve bullied me into working as your assistant?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Hmmm.” Max reached past her for the inside door handle. His body bumped against hers and started a waterfall of sparks running down her spine.
“What does that mean?” She stopped and half turned to confront him.
“It means you keep a lot of stuff to yourself.”
She knew he referred to the fact that she hadn’t mentioned her marital status to him five years ago. Despite knowing he had a right to be furious about that, his censure stung. “And what’s wrong with that?”
“People get hurt.”
People or him?
Don’t be silly. They’d known each other four days. Not long enough to develop deep feelings. It had been abundant chemistry that had made those four days sizzle. Sure, there’d been some sort of connection above and beyond the physical, but no one fell in love in four days.
“If I don’t share everything that’s only because I’m doing what I think is best.” And she’d kept some whoppers from Hailey. Stuff that if it came out, her sister would be upset. Rachel didn’t like keeping Hailey in the dark. She did it to protect her.
“Best for whom?”
Before Rachel could answer, the door behind them opened and three guys in their mid-twenties appeared in the doorway, their good cheer shattering the tension in the small space and forcing Rachel and Max to move forward.
She stepped into the crowded bar, conscious of Max pressed against her back. Happy hour was in full swing. The sounds of merrymaking bounced off the pale brick walls and dark paneling. The space was illuminated by etched glass chandeliers and lighted beer signs. The bartender waved hello as Rachel made her way past the bar in search of her sister. Hailey worked in the building so she was always first to arrive and secure a table. Rachel found her staking out a booth in the back corner. The noise level improved back here. A dark beer sat on the table in front of her. She stared into it as if reading her future in the mahogany foam.
Rachel stopped beside the table. “Hi,” she croaked. “I brought company.”
Hailey looked up in surprise, her eyes widening as she noticed the tall figure looming behind Rachel.
“I’m Max.” A hand reached past Rachel, aimed toward her sister. “You must be Hailey.”
Max’s solid torso pressed against Rachel’s back. She hummed as delight poured through her veins like warm caramel. Only when she saw the hundred unspoken questions setting fire to her sister’s keen blue eyes did she stuff a cork in her wanton emotions.
“Nice to meet you,” Hailey murmured, unable to tear her gaze from Max. “Very nice.”
Regretting her invitation, Rachel slid into Hailey’s side of the booth and nudged her toward the wall, leaving the opposite seat open. This meant she would have the pleasure of staring at Max the whole meal, but wouldn’t need to endure the tantalizing brush of his arm, shoulder or thigh against hers.
“Rachel has told me all about you,” Max said, shooting a smug look her way.
“Is that so?” Hailey plunged an elbow into Rachel’s side. “I’m afraid she hasn’t mentioned you at all. How do you two know each other?”
“She’s working as my executive assistant.”
“Why is she doing that?” Hailey quizzed. “She’s in the business of placing people, not taking jobs herself.”
Rachel felt the heat of her sister’s curiosity. Her cheeks warmed as she glared at Max. “It’s just for a little while.”
“Rachel knows how very particular I am and offered herself until my regular assistant gets off maternity leave.”
His double entendre was a cheap shot to Rachel’s midsection. Her stomach clenched. She had not offered herself to him in any way, shape or form. Not yet. She clenched her teeth to contain a hiss of exasperation.
“How are you doing that and running your company?”
“I’m managing.”
“Is
