Jude if he were to make any sort of move on her!
When at last she had finished January looked extremely tired, he noted frowningly as he stood up to join her. Not that he was in the least tired himself; jet lag had ensured that he slept this afternoon and now felt wide awake.
‘Where are you going?’ he prompted as she turned away without looking up.
Smoky grey eyes looked up at him guardedly beneath sooty lashes. ‘Home?’ she suggested ruefully.
She really did look very tired, Max noted with a frown, dark shadows beneath those incredibly beautiful grey eyes, a weariness to her shoulders too now that she was no longer on public display, the hotel guests and New Year’s Eve visitors making their way noisily from the bar.
‘I said I would wait for you,’ he reminded huskily.
She frowned, seeming on the point of protest, one look at his obvious expression of determination making her shrug defeatedly instead. ‘I just have to go and collect my coat and bag,’ she told him lightly.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Max told her firmly; having found her, he wasn’t about to let her escape him now.
Those dark brows rose mockingly. ‘To the women’s staff room?’
He grimaced. ‘I’ll wait outside.’
A look of irritation flickered briefly across her creamy brow at his obvious persistence. ‘Fine,’ she finally acknowledged tersely. ‘Give me a few minutes,’ she added lightly before going into the room clearly marked ‘Staff Only’.
He wasn’t quite sure he could wait much longer to be alone with her. Patience had never been one of his virtues, even less so now it seemed.
But as the minutes passed with no sign of her return it appeared he didn’t have much choice in the matter. Where the hell was she?
‘Can I be of any assistance?’ the manager—Peter Meridew?—paused to enquire politely.
Max turned to him scowlingly, the memory of how this man had monopolized January’s company during her next—and only—break, still fresh in his mind. ‘Is there another way out of this room?’ he prompted hardly, more convinced than ever as the minutes passed that she had somehow managed to elude him.
The other man glanced at the door, his brows raised in surprise as he turned back to Max. ‘Why, yes, there is,’ he answered slowly, obviously perplexed by a guest’s interest in what was clearly marked as a staff only room. ‘It opens out into the adjacent corridor, but— Is there anything I can do to help?’ the manager prompted at Max’s fierce scowl.
‘Not unless your name is January,’ Max muttered impatiently. ‘Which it clearly isn’t!’ he added frustratedly.
Damn it, she had got away, he was sure of it, knew she had deliberately gone out of this staff room through another door.
Why was he so surprised? a little voice taunted inside his head; he had come onto her so strongly earlier that he must have sounded like a bored businessman just looking for a female to share his bed for the night!
And wasn’t that exactly what he was?
No, it wasn’t, damn it! He already knew that one night with January simply wouldn’t be enough. And given a little more time in her company, he might have been able to convince her of that.
Don’t be too sure of that, that little voice taunted again.
‘I’m sorry?’ The manager looked more confused than ever at Max’s mutterings. ‘Is January a friend of yours?’ the other man prompted tightly.
Max drew in a deep, controlling breath, aware that January had left his table earlier as soon as she had been informed of the manager’s presence in the room. After all, what was the saying, ‘tomorrow is another day’…? And as, in this case, tomorrow was a Saturday, Max at least knew where she was going to be tomorrow evening…
‘Not yet,’ he answered the manager enigmatically. ‘By the way—’ he turned his full attention on the other man now, his smile at its most charming ‘—I would like to compliment you on the smooth and efficient running of your hotel. I travel all over the world on business, and this is definitely of a world-class standard.’
The other man visibly preened at this effusive praise—as he was meant to do; the last thing Max wanted to do was make things difficult for January at her place of work. With any luck, Max’s words of praise would override any of this man’s previous curiosity as to Max’s interest in January.
‘It’s very kind of you to say so.’ The other man beamed.
‘Not at all,’ Max continued lightly. ‘It’s refreshing to stay at such an obviously well-managed hotel.’ Too effusive? Not if the other man’s flush of pleasure was anything to go by.
‘If you require any assistance during the remainder of your stay, please don’t hesitate to call on me personally,’ Peter Meridew told him in parting.
Well, there was one happy man, at least, Max acknowledged ruefully as he watched the other man’s retreating back.
Wishing that he could feel the same, Max sobered heavily, his earlier annoyance at what he was sure were January’s evasive tactics returning with a vengeance.
But if she thought she would succeed in avoiding him for ever, she was in for a surprise.
A big surprise!
‘MAY, what on earth is wrong with you today?’ January frowned concernedly at her eldest sister, May having dropped one of the plates as the three of them stood up to clear away after eating their dinner.
May had been banging the pots and pans around serving the meal when January had come downstairs earlier, had been very quiet during dinner, only adding the odd grunt to the conversation between January and March as the three of them had eaten.
The three sisters—May, twenty-seven; March, twenty-six, and January, twenty-five—were very alike to look at, all tall and dark-haired, with a creamy magnolia skin—although that tended to colour to a healthy tan during the summer months. Only their eyes were different, May’s green, March’s a mixture of green and grey, and January’s smoky grey.
But May, being the eldest, had always been the calm, unruffled one, able to deal with any emergency. Something she certainly didn’t seem to be doing this evening!
‘Still tired from doing the pantomime?’ January sympathized.
Completely absorbed in the farm most of the time, May had found an outlet from that several years ago by joining the local drama group. They had put on the pantomime Aladdin in the small local theatre over the Christmas period, with May being given the leading role, traditionally played by a female. It had been tiring but fun, but had necessitated May being involved in evening and matinée performances over several days, as well as working on the farm.
‘If only it were that…’ May looked up now from picking up the pieces of broken plate. ‘We had a visitor today,’
