“Actually, I admire you, Felice. You stand by your morals. Brad did you dirty and you want to be cautious. You should be because I know you will only love with your heart. And I don’t want to see you get hurt by the big shot Hollywood star.”
“I don’t think he would intentionally hurt me. If the sex happens . . . well, I wouldn’t mind.” Felicity felt her face go flush. “There’s nothing wrong if I want to experience it with him. No strings attached.”
“Nice try but be honest. That’s not why you would do it.”
Felicity munched on her salmon. It had the perfect blend of dill and lemon with a touch of honey. Yum. “Honestly, I had two serious boyfriends in my life. I don’t know if, after Brad, it’s time to get involved.” Felicity wasn’t sure she believed her own words.
“I wonder how he feels. I mean you two have gotten hot and heavy and yet he’s pulled back with the sex.” Margo occupied herself with her salad but seemed to be thinking of her next word. “It’s strange for a man to act that way.”
Despite the tasty dish, Felicity pushed her plate aside managing to eat only half the meal. With Max on the brain, who needed food?
“I know. But part of me thinks he doesn’t want to go there—with me—until he’s ready for a commitment.”
No one could blame her if she wanted to wait a while to see if he’d get there on his own. With patience and faith, how could she go wrong? And really what did she have to lose?
Max checked his list.
Porsche gassed up, tire pressure good, fluids topped, suitcase packed, cooler filled to the brim with bottled water, soda, snacks for the way, cheese, salami and a couple of bottles of wine to have later.
He’d arranged two adjoining rooms at the La Valencia Hotel in La Jolla, a lovely place sufficiently tucked away from civilization and the paparazzi. The management guaranteed their privacy. Best part was they weren’t fully booked because it was considered off-season.
Once they arrived, they might have time to tour the area.
After the weekend, he’d be off to New York on a ten a.m. flight Monday morning.
No, he didn’t want to think about leaving.
In fact, he’d already packed for New York and had the luggage in his bedroom so he could spend the last moments with Felicity.
The last moments? Why was he thinking so melodramatically? Felicity and he had progressed in their relationship at the right pace.
Once he returned he’d know what steps to take next.
Max popped open the top of his Porsche and zoomed over to Felicity’s.
She greeted him appearing fresh in a yellow sundress, which emphasized her curves in just the right way and causing him weakness in the knees. He loved the way the color in the dress brought out the gold flecks in her warm brown-hazel eyes. She pulled her long locks under a wide-brimmed hat, which matched her dress.
My God. What a figure. How he’d like to get his hands on her. Max didn’t know how he’d survive sleeping in a separate room knowing she would be so close.
“You ready? Dogs tucked away? Instructions given to Jen?”
“Everything is taken care of. Thank you. Let’s hit it.”
Max grabbed her small suitcase up from the floor by the door. He liked that she packed light and it didn’t surprise Max. Unlike most women he knew, Felicity had simple needs and he loved that about her.
Felicity could barely contain her excitement. Forty-eight hours with Max all to herself. Would she survive? She giggled with glee when she opened her door to the six-foot two, hard-bodied, and every bit gorgeous Max. Excitement danced in his eyes.
Max was mostly quiet during the two-hour drive on the way to San Diego. It was hard to converse with the wind and high speed. Felicity tucked her hat under the seat and enjoyed the breeze on her hair and face. Along the way, Max occasionally squeezed her hand or placed a kiss on it.
They pulled off the freeway and into a tiny, quaint town called La Jolla de Rue. At the first stop sign, Max gathered her loose hair behind her head and pulled her in for a long French kill. Shivers of delight coursed through her body. Maybe he’d be the one seducing her.
They drove up a gravel road to the La Valencia, their home for the weekend. Max stopped in the front office and checked them in. He drove to the front of their suites and led her to her room. She appreciated he’d gotten the two rooms. Getting one room would make it seem he expected to sleep with her. She liked that he respected her.
Felicity admired the angular lines of his profile as he opened her door and handed her the key. “Let’s check it out.” He put his hand at her lower back and guided her in while carrying her single piece of luggage. “Ah, good, a nice double bed for you. Let’s see the terrace.” He put her luggage on the bed and took her by the hand to the double doors, which led to the terrace. “Beautiful, you’ll be able to see the hummingbirds from here.”
She cuddled into the crook of his side. They sat on the big wicker chair as he pulled her on his lap. Sharp pangs of desire hit her center.
God it would be so good if he were all mine.
It was nice sitting there as she put her head on his shoulder. “We don’t have to rush and run around, do we? I’d be content to chill out and relax.”
“Whatever you want. We’ll have lunch right here on the porch. I could have it delivered and then we can check out the town.” He kissed her, closed-mouth, but still intimate, warm, and romantic.
“That’s fine.”
Max pulled out his cell phone and placed an order for sandwiches and tea. He suggested she unpack and he would do the same. Reluctantly Felicity got up from Max’s lap. He went through the adjoining door, which was white-framed with horizontally slots. Without soundproofing, she could hear what went on in the other room. So, they wouldn’t be far away from one another.
The refreshments arrived within twenty minutes and they fed each other from the wicker chairs pulled close together.
“Are you up for a museum?” Max asked.
“Sure. Lemme put on comfortable walking shoes. These sandals don’t have much support.” Felicity donned her white peds with matching yellow bobby socks. She peeked at Max’s wide grin, knowing he thought she looked cute.
Max took Felicity to the famed Salk Institute to see the many architectural exhibits.
How did he know she enjoyed architecture?
She’d always been fascinated with building construction, which came in handy when she’d put together set scenes. She sometimes wondered what life would be like as an architect in a great city like San Francisco or New York. “I’ve been following the rebuild of the World Trade center site. I’d love to see the Freedom Tower and the reflecting pools built on the footprints of the original Twin Towers commemorating those who lost their lives.” Did she bring up New York again to see if he’d invite her? No. Yes. But he didn’t bite.
In fact, he virtually made no comment.
Max adored the way Felicity showed him so much affection. And he couldn’t get enough of her kisses. He practically couldn’t take his hands off her all day while they were at the architecture museum. He loved watching her run up to the exhibits in her cute sneakers and bobby socks.
When she dropped the hint about wanting to see the New York World Trade Center site, he thought he’d get another grilling about the trip. She seemed to drop the subject as soon as she brought it up. Thank God.
If he tried to explain what he’d planned, what had been going through his mind in recent weeks, she’d never understand. It was best to figure out things for himself.
On the drive to La Valencia they hit Prospect Street and saw a vintage neon sign flashing Iberico Bistro and Gin Club. He thought it might be interesting and asked Felicity if she’d like to try it. She agreed, so they pulled into the parking lot.
The staff spoke b
roken English with heavy Spanish accents. Fortunately, Max spoke a little Spanish and got through the menu selections coaching Felicity along the way. “This is obviously for the local Spanish but topas-style eating can be fun.”
Felicity’s face lit up, consistently willing to try something new. Another charming thing he loved about her. Loved? When it came to thoughts of Felicity the word love cropped up more and more in his internal dialogue. Could he be falling for her?
“It is fun to share dishes. And check out all the gin cocktail varieties they have. Looks like they may even have some dancing here.” She pointed at the small stage surrounded by a high-gloss wooden dance floor.
“I had the jazz club in mind, but if the music is good here, I don’t mind staying.”
Felicity had an earthy childlike quality, especially away from work. It contrasted dramatically with laser-like focus at the studio. He liked when she wasn’t so frazzled juggling camera shots, fitting all the action into a scene, and contending with the various personalities at her sets. He knew she thrived on the stress but he also wanted make sure she had enough rest and relaxation. “What do you say we get the corn chowder, salad, some cocas flatbreads, and the paella?”
Felicity studied the menu. “That sounds good, but I’d like to try some calamari stuffed with chorizo and roasted garlic and the red wine braised oxtail.”
“Exotic taste for such an exotic flower.” Max caressed her cheek. He’d love to ravish her. But, she deserved some old-fashioned courting. Heck, they’ve only dated a couple of weeks. They were still new. “I suppose you’re famished from all the walking and studying of exhibits today.”
“That I am.” But then her demeanor reflected a different kind of hunger.
A hunger he recognized—in himself.
It’d been close to nine o’clock by the time they’d settled the check and consumed a few gin drinks.
A band had set up and played some cool Spanish jazzy type of music. Max stood to take Felicity to the dance floor. As they danced, he spun and dipped her while the other restaurant patrons looked on admiring them.
God. Part of him wanted to take care of her. Forever. And a part of him wanted to run as far away as physically possible. She bedeviled him.
She had no idea of the power she had over him.
Felicity went to sleep as soon as she hit the pillow, with her makeup and everything. When she awoke the next morning, she noted the adjoining door was ajar. Had Max come in during the night? She’d been a little tipsy from the gin cocktails and didn’t remember even going to bed. Maybe he tucked her in.
She giggled at the thought.
She remembered the goodnight kisses at the dividing door. It’d left her panting for more. What in God’s name could he be afraid of?
The next day after breakfast on her terrace, they went to the zoo. It was overwhelmingly huge and crowded as can be expected for a Saturday afternoon. Max followed the map and led the way. Felicity didn’t mind Max doing all the work. It made things easier, and more relaxing.
They strolled the walkways hand-in-hand, stealing kisses like love-struck teenagers whenever little kids weren’t looking.
Later they enjoyed cocktails at Zamba’s, known for their Italian cuisine and whale sightings off the peer. With Max’s arm around her, she witnessed whales jumping and flipping out of the ocean, spouting huge reams of water as though putting a show on for them.
It was a bittersweet moment.
Felicity sadly thought Max would never be hers. She imagined he belonged elsewhere. A free soul. Just like the whales swimming in the Pacific. That must be why he’d been so closed off to sharing who and what he was. He wasn’t something to be shared, and no woman could or should take away what this amazing man was.
Let alone her.
They’d enjoyed candlelit dinner, with wine, and then Max, ever the thoughtful creature, bought her roses. He’d had them delivered to the table. This time they were pink.
Could it mean she was getting closer to his heart?
Felicity read the note attached to the bunch. “To Felice. Love, Max.”
Love? Delicious shock waves coursed through her body. Could he possibly mean it?
Nah, she didn’t think he was ready. This was all part of his carefully laid out plans. She could tell he loved to please her, showering her with compliments and affection but invariably guarding his heart. He’d never opened his soul to her. And that saddened her.
What was he afraid of? Felicity knew the pain of abandonment. She knew the disappointment that could come with romantic love. She’d trusted Brad, with her life, her sister, and he let her down. Instead of warding off men, she decided to focus on herself and heal. She continued to heal. Through the emotional recovery she discovered an inner strength she didn’t know existed. Deeper than the one she needed to face the world alone, parent-less and a mere teenager. The renewed internal vigor gave her the confidence that made her even more self-reliant. She didn’t need anyone. She only needed herself.
Felicity believed once she achieved true self-love she’d be prepared to love another again.
But sadly Max didn’t appear to have reached a similar realization. He’d become close-lipped, even borderline angry whenever she’d mentioned his feelings or his past.
Maybe that’s why they hadn’t made love yet. He could be one of the rare men in the world who believed without love sex would be unfulfilling. Nah, Maxwell Marx, world-renown playboy? Who was she kidding?
“You seem a million miles away. What ya thinking about?” He gazed intently at Felicity as though trying to read her mind.
“Oh, nothing. I thought of all you’ve done to plan this wonderful weekend.” A little fib but he did go out of his way for her. “I could never thank you enough for the trouble you’ve taken to make this weekend so . . . perfect.” She felt her eyes tear up and cast her gaze down so he wouldn’t see. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.” Darnit. Now the emotions broke through.
She feared he’d spy her welled-up eyes. The last thing she wanted was his pity.
He took her hand. “It’s not permanent. Just a shoot like any other I do on location.”
Felicity willed her eyes to evaporate the soon-to-fall tears. Fortunately it worked. Max continued to hold her hand and for a moment appeared to be distant.
With the threat of tears now gone, Felicity squeezed his hand. It was time to unravel the mystery of Max. “What is really bringing you to New York? I mean, I think it’s more than the feature. Perhaps your mother is sick . . .” He paled at the mention of mother. Uh-oh. She’d evidently hit a nerve. “I mean, I know you said you don’t talk with her. Or, maybe there’s some kind of unfinished business.” He should tell her if it had to do with another woman! “I realize that other than the surface things, I really don’t know much about you, Max.”
Oops. She slipped out with it. The darned drinks invariably gave her loose lips. Still, she wanted, no needed to know.
He snapped out of his daze and appeared surprised. “No, I have no family there. I told you they’re in the Outer Banks. Why do you ask?”
“You seem aloof at times. As though your mind is somewhere else. When you do this you seem . . . almost sad. Maybe if you share the whole story—”
He stiffened.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to pry. But thoughts have crossed my mind.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno, it seems rather odd you are vague about when you’re going to return. You must have a shooting schedule. I’m sure you know the amount of time it’s going to take. But you’re evasive about your return date.” She observed his jaw tightening. Felicity could tell Max was uncomfortable with the subject matter.
She supposed he didn’t want to share and didn’t want to ruin his perfectly planned evening.
She decided to change to more neutral grounds and talk about Executive Women. She blathered about an eminent designer for Tiffany’s, an up-and-coming fashion editor from Vogue. The fact that Shantae from Applaud! was assuming more responsibility at the new network, freeing up more and more of her time for the creative end.
Yet as she chattered away, Max’s eyes glazed over.
Was he getting bored? Did she talk too much?
Felice realized no matter what she said or did she wouldn’t get to know what was beneath the surface of this Maxwell Marx.
Unless he wanted her to.
And she doubted he ever would.
Max got a bit annoyed with Felicity’s prying questions. She’d ruined his jovial mood. He’d felt she was pressuring him to reveal more about his haunted past. It wasn’t something he wanted to do.
He wanted to uphold the image that he’d been a strong, confident, capable man who’d helped so many less fortunate women, not reveal his vulnerabilities.
Felicity didn’t appear to need him. She had her own direction and proved to be entirely autonomous.
Yet even though he had doubts about his abilities to give, he wanted her to need him.
There’d be only one way to resolve his problems. And he had every intention of taking care of it.
But, for now, he’d like to enjoy the remainder of their evening.
After dinner and back at the Inn, they sat by the pool. Max intended to unwind as he uncorked a bottle of wine. Dull his senses a little more, and continue playing it safe.
“Hey, did you bring your bathing suit? I’d like to slip into the Jacuzzi,” Felicity asked with that child-like enthusiasm he’d found so amazing.
Dream Man (Executive Women in Love Book 1) Page 13