Hot Nights with the...Australian. Nicola Marsh

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made a mistake in my private life. It has nothing to do with my profession,’ he protested.

      ‘It’s not private when it affects my business. Go quietly, Tony,’ he repeated.

      He shook his head in shattered disbelief that his dalliance with Laura Farrell would bring such fast and comprehensive reprisal—banished from the golden star circle, in danger of being completely exiled from celebrity stamping grounds, and without Chloe at his side he had no leverage to change what was being dealt out to him.

      Satisfied that Tony was now fully aware of consequences, Max turned his attention back to Chloe’s mother. His strong inclination was to get rid of her altogether, but family bonds were tricky. Without consulting further with Chloe, he had to check himself on that front.

      ‘I don’t believe you’ve acted in your daughter’s best interests, Stephanie, which you should have done both as her mother and her agent.’

      ‘This is none of my doing,’ she cried, one hand flying out in a cutting dismissal of Laura and Tony.

      ‘You chose Laura and you allowed Tony to attach himself to Chloe’s career. Bad judgement on both counts,’ Max bored in relentlessly. ‘You will meet with me at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning in my city office for a discussion on whether or not you will continue to be her agent.’

      ‘That’s between me and Chloe,’ she vehemently argued.

      ‘No. She has given me the power to act on her behalf and I shall, Stephanie. Believe me, I shall. You might want to bring a lawyer with you. Mine will certainly be there.’

      ‘Let me talk to her,’ came the swift demand, a flicker of fear behind the calculation in her eyes. ‘We’ve got too much history for you to interfere like this.’

      ‘Chloe does not want to listen to you,’ Max stated unequivocally, pushing the position through with calm ruthlessness. ‘I suggest you accept that your domination of your daughter is over and your best course is to move into damage control rather than try fighting me. I am a very formidable opponent, Stephanie.’

      He left that threat hanging for several moments, letting it sink in before announcing, ‘I will now leave you to return to the Starlight Room. None of you will be allowed back into it tonight. The butler will evict you from this suite in thirty minutes. A prompt exit from the hotel would be your wisest move.’

      He turned his back on them, let himself out of the suite, gave the butler his instructions, then, not anticipating any pursuit from the group he’d left to contemplate their future, he took an elevator down to the function room floor and rejoined the party in the Starlight Room.

      Lisa Cox caught hold of him and inquired, ‘Chloe not returning?’

      ‘No. She’s been on a publicity treadmill this past week and needs a rest from it,’ he said in casual dismissal. ‘Why not chat to some of the other cast members, Lisa? I’m sure they’d all be happy to give you their view of the show.’

      He smiled to wipe out the concern he’d displayed earlier and moved off to do some mixing with the cast himself, making his presence felt at the party for the next forty minutes, which was long enough to publicly distance himself from Chloe’s absence and long enough for the unholy trio to have made their departure from the hotel.

      Then excusing himself on the grounds of celebration fatigue, he made a show of retiring for the night, returned to the executive floor, checked that the second suite he’d acquired was empty, then continued on to the one where he’d left Chloe. Only a little over an hour had passed since she’d made her decision. If she’d developed cold feet about it, he’d have to convince her there was no going back. Actions had already been taken.

      She belonged with him now.

      The thought jolted him, carrying with it as it did an immense satisfaction. It was too strong, smacking of a possessiveness that was alien to him where women were concerned. In maintaining his own freedom he’d always respected their freedom to make their own choices, as well. But he did own Chloe Rollins in a professional sense, for the duration of her contract with him, and she was now free in a personal sense, giving him the opportunity to pursue his interest in her. That was what was giving him this extra buzz of excitement.

      She was the most fascinating woman he’d ever met and she was no longer tied to her husband. He could take her, keep her with him, explore the woman she was inside and out, for as long as he wanted to.

      Chloe had not moved from the armchair where Max had left her. A review of her life had been churning through her mind—the whole horrible hollowness of being more important to her mother as an image on a television screen than a person with real needs that were ignored or dismissed.

      She’d fallen in love with Tony because he’d seemed to focus entirely on her, the woman, making her feel truly loved, caring about what she wanted. All pretence. No sooner were they married than he’d started allying himself with her mother, adding to the pressure to maintain the image on the screen, sugar-coating it by telling her how special she was.

      She’d fallen out of love with him very quickly, disillusioned by how he manipulated their life together to his liking, not hers, but he’d been easier to live with than her mother so she’d done whatever he’d required of her to make the relationship harmonious enough, even to this last deal with Maximilian Hart—Tony angling to be part of the script-writing team, arguing that he could share the show with her, be on hand to look after her interests, ensure she had everything she wanted.

      Lies.

      All lies.

      He’d spent more time with Laura than with her, bedding Laura, getting Laura pregnant, while still pretending to be a loving husband. Not that she’d believed it anymore. He loved her career, the contacts, the celebrity whirl. She was the vehicle for the life he wanted, the life her mother wanted.

      The marriage had felt empty long before this. Which was why she’d wanted a baby. A baby’s love would have been real and she would have loved it so much. So very much. A child of her own to do everything right for.

      Chloe had kept sipping the brandy, liking the fire in her belly. It made her feel alive, made her feel more determined to take charge of her life once this contract with Maximilian Hart had been fulfilled. It felt good to have him on her side, knowing he would help her get through this huge change in her life. It made perfect sense that he didn’t want her so encumbered by problems that she couldn’t shine in his show. She understood that a man like him would want this project to fulfil the potential he’d envisaged. While it was true she was a key player in making that happen, Maximilian Hart was the master player, orchestrating whatever was needed to achieve the desired success.

      A man like him …

      The phrase had slid through her mind. She tried to analyse what it meant and all she could come up with was a sense of absolute control of himself and everything he did. Maximilian Hart exuded power. Was that what gave him the sexual magnetism that invariably rattled her? It probably rattled every woman who was subjected to his presence.

      Chloe was totally unaware of time passing. Hearing the door to the suite being opened jolted her into leaping out of the armchair and turning to face the man who’d done whatever he’d done to ensure she was free of harassment. That was much easier to accept when he was not here. The moment Maximilian Hart came into view, her heart started skittering with nervous apprehension.

      ‘It’s all right,’

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