to try it on she didn’t let herself think, dared not allow herself to hope.
MAX was out of the limo the moment she stepped through the front door twenty tension-fraught minutes later. ‘Very becoming,’ he said, nodding as she approached. ‘You look lovely.’
‘Thank you.’ She smoothed a hand down the slippery fabric. It fitted like a dream. She wondered if that was what this was. Just a dream. Like the ones she’d had so many years ago.
He reached into the vehicle and withdrew a small bouquet of creamy gardenias and presented them to her as he opened her door.
‘Oh …’ She inhaled their delicate green fragrance. ‘Thank you, again.’
She slid inside and set the flowers beside her on the soft leather seat. Through the speakers, Robbie was singing about angels. A bottle of champagne chilled in an ice-bucket beside a crystal flute.
‘Can I pour you a glass of champagne before we leave?’ Max asked.
‘Oh, no.’ She pressed a hand to her jittering stomach. ‘I really couldn’t.’
As they drew smoothly away from the kerb she tried to remember the last time she’d refused champagne. But right now her insides simply wouldn’t tolerate it. And she needed a clear head to face Blake.
This might seem like a dream but she couldn’t be sure it was the dream she wanted. Wouldn’t allow herself to think beyond the next step. According to his text, he was expecting them to have a discussion. Over dinner. Maybe he liked women to look sophisticated when he dined. Or maybe. She shook her head and looked out at the darkening tropical sky with its anvil thunder-heads building over the hinterland. She refused to contemplate any more maybes.
The journey took only a few minutes. At the Mooloolaba Marina she stepped into the deepening twilight, clutching her flowers and her bag.
Then Max was accompanying her through the security gate and towards a luxury yacht that dwarfed every other watercraft in the vicinity. Light spilled from the main deck and shimmered on the inky water. This wasn’t the simple sailing boat she’d seen in Blake’s brochure, even though that, too, had been a luxury in her eyes.
This was a floating palace. With its sleek white lines, it reminded her of a powerful beast waiting to be unleashed. She could visualise it slicing through the water with Blake at the helm. And that was probably where he’d be tomorrow, or the next day when his business with her was concluded.
And then she saw him. On the deck. In slim-fitting dark trousers and a white shirt open at the neck with the cuffs rolled back. Her heart stopped, then beat at double time. Their gazes met. Held for what seemed like eternity while the water lapped and the foody aroma from the nearby waterside restaurants wafted on the air. She could do this. She could.
Still watching her, he walked down the gangplank towards her. She could have a civilised meal then walk away.
‘Good evening, Lissa.’
His tone was welcoming, if a little formal and, oh, how she’d missed that deep rich voice. But she could live without it. ‘Hello.’
He barely glanced at the chauffeur. ‘Thank you, Max. That’ll be all for now.’
He reached out and sifted his fingers through the hair curling over her shoulders. She had time to breathe in his musky scent before he stepped back.
‘Thank you for the dress. It’s beautiful.’
‘You make it so. And you’re welcome.’
He leaned forward, touched cool dry lips to her cheek. Smooth skin. He’d shaved recently and smelled sinfully good for such a chaste kiss. She could feel the last of her strength draining out of her.
‘I hope you haven’t eaten already,’ he said, placing a warm palm at the small of her bare back to guide her onto the boat.
She almost sighed at the contact before arching away and quickening her steps. She looked at the luxury surrounding her. ‘This is a magnificent yacht.’
‘I sold off most of my investments to buy it.’
She stared up at the stern’s fibreglass U-shaped structure, which arched over a comfortable table setting with satin wicker chairs. Down-lights reflected on the table set for two with silver cutlery and white china. A candle glowed inside a tall glass.
Through a wide open doorway she could see a spacious living room. Thick blue carpet, polished wood and brass fittings, over-stuffed leather chairs and a bar with hidden lighting that sparkled with rows of bottles. ‘This is all too overwhelming. You’ve been gone a month and now.’
‘Twenty-six days, actually.’
She knew. Twenty-six days and thirteen hours.
A uniformed waiter appeared with a silver tray. Lissa recognised him from the catering company they’d used for the launch party.
‘Would you care for a prawn tail with wasabi and lemon sauce?’ Blake asked.
Her stomach writhed with nerves and nausea. She set her flowers on the table. ‘I won’t be dining with you. I came tonight because you went to such a lot of trouble to get me here, and I felt a little sorry for Max, but I need to know what you want. And I need to know now. Then I’ll be leaving. We won’t see each other again.’
Blake’s demeanour changed. His jaw tightened and she saw his fingers flex at his sides. So his night wasn’t going according to plan? Neither was hers.
He glanced at the waiter, waved him off. ‘Take a break, Nathan.’
Lissa took the opportunity to move to the railing and looked out over the myriad boats bobbing on the water. From that distance she made herself turn to face him. And, oh, she wished she didn’t have to because looking at him made her want to tell him things she knew he wouldn’t want to hear.
‘In your text you suggested moving on with our lives. I thought that’s what we were doing.’
‘I thought so too. Until a week ago.’
He took a step towards her but she held up a hand. ‘Don’t come any closer. Please, Blake.’ She latched onto the only reason she could think of. ‘You found someone to lease the house and you want me to vacate, right?’
He seemed to consider a moment. ‘It’s true, I want you to vacate the house.’ His eyes were dark and steady on hers. ‘Because I want you to live here on this boat. With me.’
The simplicity of his words—and the shock—pinned her feet to the deck. She gripped the railing for support. He wanted her to live with him. But he wanted it all his way. He was suggesting what was essentially a convenient live-in arrangement. She’d been there, done that, had the restraining order to prove it. No one was going to use her as a convenience again.
‘We’ve played this scene before. I thought I already made it clear to you that I’m committed to my career—’
‘I love
