Max shook her head. Then she nodded. “Sort of. Not really. I don’t know.”
“Oh, Maxy.” Kaylie pulled her into a hug. “Trust me. He won’t hesitate after you do this. Win-win. You remember that.” She shook her head. “What on earth was he thinking?”
“Win-win,” Max repeated. Maybe I can do this.
Chapter Six
HUGH AND HIS date, Nova Bashe, a comically tall, impossibly skinny Swedish swimsuit model, were flanked by photographers as they made their way into the party. Hugh looked back with a shrug and a wave. Treat was glad to be out of the limelight. Max didn’t strike him as an after-party type of woman, and the last thing he wanted to do was hang out with drunken celebrities. He planned to hide in the shadows and keep an eye on his sister.
“Thanks for coming with me. I knew I could count on you,” Savannah said, looking gorgeous in her gold minidress.
“Why aren’t you with Connor Dean?” Treat asked, swirling the liquor in his glass.
“Are you kidding? He’ll have a whole entourage. I’m off duty when he’s out drinking. I can’t be held responsible for his liquored-up state, even if that’s when he gets in the most trouble. He gave me tickets, of course, but I gave them to the girls in my office. Now, they’re the kind of girls who love this stuff.”
“So, why did you want to come then?”
Savannah looked around, and then pointed across the room.
Treat followed the line of her finger and there, in the dim light of the nightclub, stood Max.
“See you later, big brother.” Savannah kissed his cheek and disappeared into a crowd of people off to his left.
Treat couldn’t take his eyes off of Max. There she was. He’d blown it once, and he wasn’t going to blow it again. His heart started that thunderous dance again, and he took a step in her direction just as she lifted her eyes and connected with his.
Damn, she was gorgeous. Her hair looked so full and sexy. He wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through it. What does it smell like? What does she smell like? What does she taste— He stopped himself from taking that thought any further. The muscles in his legs tensed as he crossed the dance floor. He ignored the gyrating bodies, never taking his eyes from hers, afraid that if he did, she might not be there when he looked again.
She held a drink between both hands. She bit her lower lip as he approached, and his body reacted instantly when she released her lip and ran her tongue along the corner of her mouth.
Two more steps and he’d be close enough to touch her. One more step, and the same rush of perfume she’d worn at the resort assaulted his senses, sending a thrill through his chest.
“Max,” he said.
She didn’t lower her eyes the way she had at the resort. She narrowed them in a heated stare.
He drank in her revealing dress, the way it hugged her hips and plunged so deeply between her firm breasts that it made him want to lick all the way from her neck to her belly button. Stop. That’s not what you want with her, he reminded himself.
“Treat.” She ran her eyes seductively down his body, then brought her drink to her lips. She took a sip and licked the alcohol from her lips while dropping her eyes to just below his waist, where they lingered.
What happened to the shy girl who couldn’t hold my gaze?
“What are you doing here?” Her eyes trailed slowly back up.
His pulse raced and he grasped for words. “Um, I…My brother.” He took a drink and then began anew. “My brother had extra tickets. I came with him and Savannah.”
She looked around the room.
“She disappeared into the crowd,” he explained.
“Who’s your brother?”
The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Hugh. Hugh was far closer to her age, a subject Treat had been trying to ignore. Not only did Hugh have the Braden looks and wealth, he also loved the thrill of living on the edge and ran with a fast crowd—and women flocked to him.
“Hugh Braden.”
Her eyes lit up. “The race-car driver?”
Damn it. He nodded.
She took a step closer to him and ran her finger down his chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Holy hell, she was killing him. He had to touch her, had to feel that silky skin. He wanted to pull her body against his and kiss her right then and there. Hell, he wanted to do so much more than kiss her, and he had the hard-on to prove it.
She tugged his tie playfully, and Treat swore it had a direct line to his penis from the way his body reacted. She was more than a foot shorter than him, and when she stood that close to him in that delectable dress, the curves of her breasts beckoned him. He wasn’t going to make it. He hadn’t planned to sleep with her tonight, but his body heated up in a way that he might not be able to cool down. Damn it. He wanted to take it slow, get to know her better; and most importantly, to clear the air about what happened in Nassau.
“Max,” he said quietly.
The way she looked up, with those innocent eyes, made him want to take her in his arms and take care of her, never let anyone hurt her. He’d never felt such protective urges before toward any female besides Savannah.
“LET’S GO SOMEPLACE.” Max couldn’t believe what she was doing—from the seductive glances to the words that expertly slipped off her tongue. She felt like an entirely different person, and she liked it. When she looked at him, those hurt feelings fell away. She’d planned on finding a stranger to take away the memory of him, but now that he was right there before her, she knew a stranger wasn’t the answer. There was no forgetting Treat Braden.
The minute their eyes connected, she’d known it was now or never, and she still couldn’t believe she was pulling off all the things that Kaylie had suggested. And they were working! He was putty in her hands. The problem was, she would be putty in his the minute the tables were turned.
Treat put a hand on the curve of her lower back and guided her toward the exit. That simple touch sent adrenaline soaring through her veins.
Max tried to ignore the jealous stares from women as they passed. Treat was undeniably handsome, and his height alone demanded attention, but taking in the whole picture—gorgeous, thick black hair, smoldering dark eyes, set off by richly tanned skin, a broad chest, and slim waist—made her heat up in all the right places. Her heart swelled with pride to be with him tonight, and for a minute, she took the fantasy even further. What would it feel like to be in his arms, to have his hands on her naked body? She shivered with the thought.
When they stepped through the doors and into the cool night air, Max crossed her arms over her body. She’d hurried to Kaylie’s and had forgotten to bring a sweater. Treat wrapped his arms around her. They felt so safe and strong, and his masculine smell sent her mind reeling.
“Shall I drive?” he asked.
Shit. She hadn’t thought this through. Where are we going? How will I get my car back? How could efficient Max have forgotten so much? She nodded, hoping she’d figure out the rest on the way.
His Lexus SUV had leather seats, which were cold when she sat down. He started the truck and leaned over the console.
“Let me warm you up.”
He reached across her lap and she readied herself for a kiss. And, boy, was she ready. Her eyes were at half-mast; she slowed her breathing and parted her lips.
He pushed a button on the door. “Heated seats,” he said, then sat back up.
Max thought her heart might explode in her chest. Jesus, really? I should have leaned in and taken the kiss. Next time…
Treat pulled out of the parking lot. “Where to, beautiful?”
Did he need to talk like that? Pulling her in with his seductive words and smooth voice? She could barely think, much less talk.
“Left at the light. I live in Allure.”
He nodded and headed out of town. The silence was deafening, and Max felt her confidence slipping away. What would Kaylie do? She reached over and turned on the radio, then moved her shou
lders slowly to the beat.
Treat put his hand on hers and held on tight. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“Max, I love the feel of your skin.”
Touch me. Pull over the truck and touch me. She tried to keep her hand from trembling against his thigh, where he held it beneath his. What do you say when a man says that to you? She had so little experience with seduction and realized too late that she was way out of her league.
“Thank you?” Ugh. Shoot me. Please shoot me.
“Thank you.” He glanced over with a serious look, before turning his attention back to the road. “For giving me another chance.”
Max knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of turning him away. She wanted him more with every word he spoke. She guided him toward her apartment.
As he parked the truck, Max suddenly realized that she was taking Treat Braden to a one-bedroom apartment. The man owned resorts all over the world. She was dying inside, but there was no alternative. She couldn’t magically create a glamorous house for her to call her own.
“It’s nice here,” Treat said. He walked around and opened Max’s door for her.
She wished he’d stop being a gentleman already. It was too hard, waiting for the first kiss, the first touch. And now there he was in all his glory, standing beside her open door like a dream. Max swung her legs out and stepped onto the runner. He took her hands to help her down, and instead of stepping down, she leaned forward and settled her lips over his. His hands moved to her waist. God, he tastes sweet. His tongue explored her mouth slowly and sensuously. He drew her closer, until her body was against his. Without any thought, Max encircled her arms around his neck and pulled herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He grasped her thighs and kicked the door closed.
She could have kissed him all night, right there under the streetlights, with her dress hiked up around her waist and a set of headlights coming right for them. Headlights? Headlights! Max pulled back, and sure enough, there was a car backing into the parking lot across from them.
“Oh gosh. We…I…”
He set her gently on the ground, without so much as a blush, then opened the truck door and grabbed her purse. “Perhaps we should go inside,” he said.
She hurried toward her third-floor apartment, hoping to avoid whoever had seen them in the parking lot—and to get back to kissing. At the door, she closed her eyes as she fiddled with the key, praying she could get through the night without making a fool out of herself. Being in a dark room at the party, with all those people, she could almost pretend she was in a movie. But here, about to enter her apartment, she was suddenly scared shitless. She turned her back on the closed door and said, “My apartment is small.”
“I like small.”
“It’s not glamorous. It’s…utilitarian.”
He put a hand on her waist. “I’m all about efficiency.”
The heat beneath his hand made her stop and catch her breath. “There’s nothing really fancy about it.” She swallowed hard as he put his other hand on her waist and moved in closer. His breath was sweet and warm. She licked her lips, dying to taste him again.
He moved his hand to her face, then lifted her chin and tilted her head back. “Fancy is overrated,” he said, covering her lips with his.
She dropped her keys and pulled him closer, thankful his hands were holding her up. Every stroke of his tongue made her melt a little further under his spell. She had never craved kissing anyone so much or enjoyed it for so long. She dug her hands beneath his thick hair and pulled him harder against her. His desire pressed against her middle, and a moan escaped her lips into his mouth.
She drew away, embarrassed. Max had never been a verbal lover. How could she be a verbal kisser? His eyes were so dark, so desirous. She reached for her keys and unlocked the door, feeling his heat behind her, driving her faster into the dark apartment.
Treat closed the door behind them, and she watched him taking in the secrets of her private living space. Surveying the small, tidy living room with one beige couch and an overstuffed chair, then skimming the bar that separated the cozy kitchen from the rest of the apartment.
“It’s small, I know, but—”
“It’s perfect,” he whispered.
Max had had only two males in her apartment before. And she was pretty sure the Cub Scout selling popcorn with his mother didn’t count. She had absolutely no idea what to do with a man like Treat in her apartment.
He must have sensed her nervousness, because he went to the bookshelves and brought the candles to the coffee table, and lit them with a silent smile. She didn’t think her heart could beat any faster than it was.
“Sit next to me,” he said as he took off his jacket and laid it neatly on the chair.
Max breathed a sigh of relief when he took control. She felt his presence like a torch beside her. Her nerves tensed with anticipation.
“Tell me something about yourself,” he said.
She had no idea what to say. She was too inexperienced to come up with a quick, sexy answer.
“I’ll start,” he offered. “My favorite place in the world, besides right here on your couch this very second, is Wellfleet, Massachusetts.”
“You travel all over the world and your favorite place is some Podunk town in Massachusetts?” She had to laugh, which, she had to admit, lessened the tightening of her nerves.
“Yeah, it is. I have a little house on the bay. It’s quiet, nice.”
He put his hand on her leg, stirring those nerves again.
“What gets your juices flowing?” she asked, immediately realizing she deserved the amorous look he was giving her. “I mean, outside of…this.”
“That’s easy. My work. I get such a thrill out of taking a resort from flat to finished, making it world-renowned. Even the negotiations are exciting to me. When I walk into a room and I know that the people on the other side of the table want something I’m not willing to give, just being able to turn it around is the biggest high I’ve found.”
“I see it in your eyes. Even now, they’re so alive. That’s how I feel about my job, too. It’s the same. I mean, not on the same scale, but the same thrill.”
He ran his finger down her cheek, and her entire body clenched with desire.
“What else?” he asked in a seductive voice.
I want to kiss you right this very second and never stop. “I love sweets. Chocolate mostly. And I hate jelly.” Jelly? I’m so lame. I’ll tell you anything—just kiss me already.
“Okay, no jelly.” He smiled, resting his hand on her thigh. “My favorite color is blue,” he said.
My favorite color is your hand on my body. “Lavender,” she managed. “Favorite smell?” This is not good. Smell? Kill me. Please just slit my throat and put me out of my misery.
He cupped the back of her head with his free hand and nuzzled into her neck. She closed her eyes against the shudder his warm breath sent through her.
“Toasted almond ice cream.”
“What?” It took her a minute to remember she’d asked him a question. “Ice cream has a smell?” A hazy, horny fog had enveloped her mind, spurred on by the stirrings between her thighs.
“A delicious one,” he said.
The way he said delicious made her lick her lips.
“Tell me something you love.” He moved so close she could taste his minty breath as he spoke.
She clung to the edge of the couch, sure that if she didn’t, she’d pounce on him like a lioness on her prey and devour him in ways that made her blush to think about.
“My favorite flowers are Knock Out roses.” She’d never seen them in person, only in pictures.
“Knock Out roses,” he whispered.
Chapter Seven
TREAT COULD hardly believe he was sitting beside Max, the woman he’d been thinking about, dreaming about, pining over, for the past six months. Her kisses were sweeter than sugar and so warm they made him ache for her. He’d wanted
to take her right there in the parking lot. He had to pull it together. She was not a one-night stand, and if his racing heart and flaming nerves were any indication, she was destined to be so much more than any woman he’d ever been with.
He was as nervous as a teenage boy readying to feel up a girl for the first time. What on earth was causing him to lose his edge? Nerves hadn’t been a part of his sex life since he was a kid, and all the talking in the world wasn’t helping the throbbing reminder in his pants, which only reinforced his nervousness.
“Max.” Just sitting beside her, touching her thigh, the way she looked at him with desire and embarrassment, all wrapped up into one, sped up his thrum of desire. “You’re so beautiful.”
She leaned in to kiss him, and he held her back gently. He needed to talk to her first. He had to apologize. Treat wasn’t a man who treated women poorly. The fact that he had hurt her had been weighing heavily on him. She’d blown him off when he’d apologized, and it was a half-ass apology anyway. He hadn’t taken the time to really apologize the way she deserved. He wanted—no, he needed—to explain things to her.
“Max, I want to talk to you first.”
She froze beneath his touch and closed her eyes. “It’s me. You don’t want me again, right?”
“What? No.” He grabbed her wrist as she pushed herself from the couch. “Max, that’s not it at all. You’re misinterpreting my hesitation.” Why did he always have to sound so damned professional? Why couldn’t he pour out his emotions?
Her chest rose and fell with each breath as he watched anger reach her narrowing eyes. Damn it. She was misconstruing his intentions; he could see it. The hell with it. He’d explain it to her later. After. When she was too tired to run away or even think.
He pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her—hard—until he felt the tension in her body ease, and she leaned in to him. God, she feels good. He brought his hand to her waist, and she lifted her arm around his neck. He cupped her breast, caressing her through the filmy fabric of her dress, feeling her nipple harden beneath his touch. He needed her—all of her. She arched her neck, and he kissed the edge of her jaw, the dip between her chin, then took her neck into his mouth in a long, sensuous suck that felt like it might pull the come right out of him.
Lovers at Heart Page 4