by Jani Kay
Well, fine then. If he must come, she can entertain him.
I had to endure watching more backslapping before we left the bar and crossed the road to the Bistro, amazed at how easily Maxwell got on with his employees. They genuinely admired him. Some, more than others. Like Celeste.
Celeste hooked into Maxwell’s arm as we crossed the road. Her long legs were bronzed and sexy in her ultra-short dress and high heels. She looked sensational. Did she know Maxwell was coming?
We entered the bistro and before I could even ask the waitstaff if there was an extra place for my boss, the maître d’ just about fell over Maxwell. It was clear he’d been here, often.
“Ah Mr. Grant, we set an extra place for you just in case. Your secretary said you may join us tonight. We’re delighted you could make it.”
He directed Maxwell to the head of the table. I wanted to be seated as far as possible from him, so I held back, letting everyone else go in front of me. Celeste held on to his arm for dear life.
He indicated to a seat next to him and Celeste sat down, grinning widely. Tommy darted for the other chair next to him, but Maxwell held out his hand to stop him.
“Dr. Clarke?” He gestured toward the empty chair.
Really? I suppressed the impulse to roll my eyes as I took the place next to him. He casually placed his hand on my shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Champagne?”
Everyone cheered and he ordered four bottles of Moet.
Celeste hung off every word Maxwell uttered. She laughed at his jokes and touched his arm as often as possible. I’d seen her records, Celeste was twenty-three years old. The huge age difference between her and Maxwell didn’t seem to be a deterrent—to either of them—because Maxwell was gracious and charming, smiling at her warmly.
Clearly her flirting wasn’t lost on him. It irritated the shit out of me. Why? I had no idea. They were both adults, it was not my business.
I refused dessert. Maxwell raised an eyebrow. “I thought you had a sweet tooth?”
“I’m full,” I said sulkily. Keeping up with these skinny bitches was harder than I thought. I was dying for a chocolate mousse. I always craved something sweet after a delicious meal.
Ten minutes later, the desserts arrived at the table. If I excused myself and went to the ladies room, the torture would be lessened. Just as I was about to get up from the table, Maxwell placed his hand on my wrist and held out a spoonful of his chocolate mousse to me.
“I thought we could share,” he said, a wicked glint in his eyes. “I’m full too, but it’s my favorite,” he coaxed.
Damn him. Where did this caring gene suddenly come from?
Before I could protest he leaned over and cupped my chin firmly as he placed a spoon of chocolate mousse in my mouth, slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving mine. Watching us through narrowed eyes, Celeste nearly choked on her crème caramel.
The mousse melted on my tongue. It tasted so good I had to close my eyes to savor it. I let out a long sigh, enjoying the moment. Maxwell murmured something I couldn’t hear over the noise, and then, wiped his thumb across my lips.
His touch unraveled me completely. My eyes flew open, searching his face. “You missed a bit there.” He shrugged, staring at my lips.
Good Lord, I had to get away. Those piercing eyes were just too much.
“Th...thanks,” I stuttered. Why did I always sound like a blabbering idiot around my boss? The cool composed woman I always was, crumbled whenever he was in close proximity. I didn’t understand—no other man had ever done that. Pushing to my feet, I quickly excused myself and made my way to the ladies room where I’d be safe from further idiotic behavior.
The sound of Celeste giggling followed me all the way. Was Maxwell feeding her chocolate mousse, too? I refused to turn my head to look back.
When I returned, Maxwell was paying the bill. I sighed, relieved. Thank God the evening was over, I could make my escape.
We stood outside, waiting for our taxis, bundling everyone going in the same direction into one taxi. Maxwell greeted everyone warmly as they took off. My hotel was in the opposite direction, so I was having a cab all to myself. I spotted the next taxi pulling over. Finally. My turn.
Just as I made my way toward the waiting taxi, Maxwell grabbed my arm with a steel like grip. Gone was the jovial playboy, replaced by a serious look on his face.
“Don’t go. Have a drink with me. We have a few things to talk about.”
I tried to resist. “I'm really tired.”
“Always fighting me, Rebecca. What are you so afraid of?”
Taken aback by his direct challenge, I capitulated. He wasn’t asking for anything more than some of my time. It couldn’t be that bad.
“OK, a quick one.” I sighed.
He took my arm and steered me back across the road. We found an empty booth and I slid in, Maxwell sitting across from me.
“So, how are the workshops going?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Think it’s worth all the money it’s costing me?”
I leaned back and relaxed slightly, relieved that he wanted to talk about business. I could totally do that.
We chatted about the workshops and I found myself becoming quite animated as I gave him my opinions. We talked about ways of improving certain things to make it even better. The pride in his eyes was evident as he spoke about his company and employees. My boss definitely had clear visions for the future of Grant Industries.
I glanced at my watch. An hour had flown by. I’d been certain I wouldn’t last five minutes alone in his company without starting some kind of argument. The way he had loosened his tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves, had helped me relax and forget the time. With a boyish grin he threw back the last drink.
“Tomorrow, I have the day to myself before I fly back to New York. It’s rare that it ever happens, but there weren’t earlier flights available.” He cleared his throat and pulled at his shirt collar. “I’ve never been to Versailles, in spite of the many times I’ve been to Paris. Care to come along?” He raised both eyebrows, then, quickly added, “No pressure, of course.” For the first time I saw Maxwell’s vulnerability. From his hopeful expression it was pretty clear that he was expecting me to refuse him.
Caught off guard by his humility, I couldn’t help but smile. “I haven’t been to Versailles, yet. I’d like to go...very much.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could think clearly.
Wrong answer. Crap, Rebecca, what were you thinking?
His eyes crinkled at the corners as his lips curved into a warm smile.
“I’ll pick you up at nine,” he said, as he led me outside and hailed a taxi. He held the door open as I slid in. “Good night Rebecca, sweet dreams.” He tapped on the roof of the taxi as it pulled away from the curb.
Confused, I leaned back in the taxi and closed my eyes. A whole day alone with my boss. How on earth did I let that happen?
My thoughts turned to Alain. He was expecting me to come to the chateau tomorrow. I’d have to call to tell him that I’d be arriving later in the evening. He wouldn’t be happy. Since he’d tracked me down at the Louvre, he’d called me at least twice every day. He was anxious for me to come to the estate so I could finally meet his father.
I’d agreed to spend the day with Maxwell as a stalling tactic. I wanted to delay meeting Alain’s formidable father for as long as possible. I had an uneasy feeling in my gut every time I thought of meeting the old man.
Any excuse would do, even spending a day with Maxwell Grant.
Chapter 55
I must have gone crazy, agreeing to a whole day with Maxwell that wasn’t work related. I leisurely enjoyed my breakfast in bed, then, I took a long shower before getting ready for a day at Versailles. I’d always wanted to see the spectacular gardens.
By now, I knew that Maxwell was punctual, but as usual, I was running late. Waiting five or so minutes wouldn’t kill him; I had to ring Alain first. It was too late when I got back last night
and I didn’t want him questioning me about my night out.
As I thought, Alain wasn’t happy. Turned out, Maxwell wasn’t that patient.
By the time I reached the lobby, fifteen minutes late, Maxwell’s lips were drawn into a thin line, his brow knitted.
“I thought you were standing me up —again,” he growled.
“Sorry, but I'm here, now,” I said, with a warm smile in an attempt to change his mood.
“So you are. All good. Come, I have a surprise for you.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. I had to virtually run to keep up with his long strides, his excitement evident in his wide grin. I liked surprises. But, not this one. I gasped as I registered that the Harley Davidson with two helmets dangling from the handle bars was ‘the surprise’.
Maxwell grinned like a naughty school boy. “Isn’t she a beauty?”
I stiffened. “I’m afraid of motorcycles.” I didn’t want to dampen his boyish enthusiasm, but I was trembling. Besides, I was wearing a dress and heels. He could’ve warned me. But then, I guess it wouldn’t have been a surprise and I probably would have refused his invitation.
He noticed my hesitation. Taking my hands in his, he stared into my eyes and said solemnly, “I’ll be very careful, Rebecca. You’re safe with me. But, I understand if you don’t want to.”
The disappointment on his face was palpable. His thumbs made little circles on my skin that completely unhinged me. Maybe it was time to get back into the proverbial horse’s saddle. Face my fears and all that shit...
“OK. But I’ll have to change first.”
The way his face lit up, further unnerved me.
Crap, what was I doing?
“Wait here.” I spun around and with wobbly knees, went to change into jeans and a T-shirt. I flung a light scarf around my neck. With trembling fingers, I braided my hair—I didn’t want it flying into my face.
For the past decade, I’d been petrified of the two-wheeled monster. Ever since my high school boyfriend was killed in a motorcycle accident, I didn’t trust them; I didn’t believe they were safe.
And, I’d never been on the back of one again since Evan died.
It was time to move on. Standing with my back to the cold steel of the elevator, I closed my eyes and I let out a long breath. I had to go with the flow and entrust my life into Maxwell’s hands. It wasn’t something I was used to doing, I liked being in control. A tight knot twisted in my stomach as the doors opened and I was back in the lobby.
Last chance to bolt.
Maxwell stood beside the elevator. The look on his face told me he didn’t expect me to return. A smile twisted his lips as his frown melted away. He didn’t comment, just silently steered me back to the demon with firm pressure on my back.
“Safety first,” Maxwell said, as he helped me into a black leather jacket and gloves. He gently placed a full-faced helmet on my head. I just stood there, frozen with fear.
He raised my chin to meet his gaze. “Trust me, Rebecca,” he said, “I will never hurt you.” His eyes were intense, looking deep into my soul. I drew in a sharp breath: he meant more than just the motorcycle ride, of that I was certain.
Planting a swift chaste kiss on my forehead, I knew he was serious.
“Remember to lean with the bike and hold on tight. If you need to stop or anything is wrong, signal me.” Unable to speak, I nodded.
He helped me onto the bike, I was trembling.
He straddled the bike and indicated for me to follow. I swallowed hard and slung a leg over the seat.
Oh God, this is it. No turning back, now.
Before I could think about what to do next, he pulled my arms around his waist, patting my hands as they clasped tightly around him. My eyes were squeezed shut.
I could feel his grin, even though I couldn’t see his face. He was enjoying this way too much.
Completely at his mercy now, I braced myself. He pulled away slowly; gently even. Yet, I gripped even tighter around him, hanging on for dear life, my heart nearly jumping out of my chest. How long is this goddamn ride? Versailles was quite a distance away. My mouth was dry, I wasn’t sure I was going to survive this. I’d much rather be in his Maserati.
“Open your eyes, Rebecca.” My eyes flew open, more out of surprise at hearing his voice than obeying his order. Then, I remembered the devise he’d attached to my jacket, so we could speak to one another if necessary.
How did he know my eyes were screwed shut?
“Relax.” I heard the smile in his voice. I felt myself melt into his back as we weaved through the traffic.
After about fifteen minutes, we’d escaped the city and cruised on the A13. I was getting used to the rumble under my ass. “Hold on tight,” he said into my earpiece, as he accelerated. I tightened my grip around his waist, as I gulped at a gush of wind and hid my face, pressing my cheek to his back. The heady smell of fresh air and leather in my nostrils.
We stopped at a petrol station along the way, just as we approached the turnoff to Versailles.
“How are you doing?” he asked, concern in his voice.
“I...I’m fine,” I said, as he pulled off my gloves.
“My god, your hands are frozen.” He rubbed my hands in his big warm hands, trying to bring them back to life. “Tuck your hands under my jacket when we go again,” he instructed matter-of-factly.
He removed his helmet then lifted mine off. He reaches out to tuck the windblown strands of hair behind my ear, gently stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.
“Your cheeks are even colder.” He pulled me against him brusquely, and I leaned into his warmth as a shiver traveled down my spine. My body was shaking and he held me even tighter, rubbing my back. I closed my eyes as the tension slowly seeped out of my muscles. For once, I wasn’t resisting him. We stood like that for what felt like forever.
“Let’s get a warm drink into you,” he said, as he pulled me toward the motorway cafe. He ordered two coffees and removed a hipflask from the inside of his jacket. He slowly poured a shot into my coffee and handed it to me. “Drink slowly,” he warned.
I pulled a face at him as I took my first sip. Pleasant warmth spread though me. He just laughed and shook his head. I noticed he didn’t pour any of the brandy into his own coffee. He read my mind, “No drinking for the driver,” he chuckled, and I knew I was safe with him.
Back onto the motorbike. This time he reached back and pulled both arms around his waist and tucked them under his leather jacket. Then he guided my hand over his heart and held it there, pressing my fingers to his chest. I felt his heartbeat quicken, even through the gloves. My mouth went dry. He slowly let go. Stunned, I didn’t move. His muscles rippled through his T-shirt as we took off, causing a strange stirring in my gut. I wasn’t sure if I was trembling from the motorbike ride or from touching Maxwell in such an intimate way. Thankfully he had his back to me, and I didn’t have those intense eyes scrutinizing my face.
Chapter 56
We got to Versailles only ten minutes later. As I expected, the gardens were spectacular. Ornamental water features abounded in the French-styled garden—from the calm water of lakes and canals, to water cascading in groves, and water spraying from fountains. Water always had a calming effect on me. My mother said it was because I was born under a fire sign, Aries, and I needed the water to cool my fiery temperament.
Maxwell picked up on my train of thought. “Did you realize that humans always flock to water to relax? We have vacations near the ocean, or rivers, or dams. And, if there aren’t natural water sources, we build artificial ones. People are always attracted to water features.”
I mulled this interesting observation around in my mind.
“I've never thought of it like that.” I was intrigued by the idea. It was true. Even in the most remote places, people build huge water features. An oasis for the soul.
“Think of Las Vegas and the musical fountains of Bellagio. Even though Vegas is in the desert, people come from far to see the founta
ins.”
“And, the musical fountains in Singapore on Sentosa Island,” I added enthusiastically, as I recalled those fountains changing colors in time with the music.
We listed all the places we could think of where water features dominated, competing playfully to see who could come up with the longest list. I laughed and enjoyed the banter; I’d always admired a good sense of humor and a quick wit. Maxwell Grant had both in spades. Smart and smartass: off-the-chart sexy in a man.
We strolled around the gardens, coming to Pyramid Fountain adorned with tritons, dolphins and crayfish.
“I read that it took three years to build the pyramid,” I shared.
“Such dedication,” Maxwell teased, gazing into my eyes.
Was he referring to the builders or to my research? Confused, I resorted to taking a few photos on my new camera, mostly to hide my eyes. I was having way too much fun with my boss.
We continued our amble in silence.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Maxwell asked, in a way that made me feel as if he really was interested in what I was thinking.
“I'm just thinking...how magnificent it is to walk here in the twenty-first century where so many people have walked before us, centuries ago. It makes me feel so small...”
“I know what you mean, it’s humbling to think that kings and royalty walked these very paths. And, that this will be here long after we’ve gone. And, still be here for our children’s children if all goes well.”
“Deep thoughts for a businessman,” I teased. I didn’t want to talk about his children; somehow the thought of him having children with another woman riled me. I didn’t understand this strange emotion.
Maxwell led me further into the gardens. It was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon and I was famished, but I didn’t want to make a fuss. Besides, he was married to a super model—she probably ate like a sparrow, so he wouldn’t think that I was hungry.
My stomach rumbled so loudly I was sure he could hear it. Before long, we stumbled upon a clearing with a blanket spread out under a tree and a picnic basket.