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Maxwell would be cutting it fine, but he had every intention of arriving by the seven o’clock deadline.
If another lover had required an earlier time for dinner, he would have simply canceled. The fact he hadn’t even considered doing so with Romi was somewhat disconcerting, but perhaps not so shocking.
He planned to make her his wife. That would require different concessions on his part.
The type of concessions he had made for no one but his mother and she rarely asked of him. He had no doubts Romi wouldn’t be nearly as accommodating.
He might have no direct personal experience with that kind of thing, but Maxwell had always assumed a wife would be more demanding of his time and attention than any of his lovers.
Hence his lack of desire to ever enter the wedded state. Before this.
He wanted Romi, though. And she required more than a short-term affair. Though she’d tried to talk him into a one-night stand. For her first time.
He could not believe she’d thought a single night would be enough for them.
They were not just combustible in bed, he and Romi were an atom separating with nuclear force. Only they generated that kind of power when they came together.
The housekeeper led him into the living room, where Romi was sitting on the sofa looking through the same photo albums that had so fascinated him. Her father’s drinking problem and loss of her mother aside, Romi had lived a clearly happy childhood.
The photographic evidence had shown that and so much more. Those albums revealed Harry Grayson’s deep love for his daughter and for the woman he had married and lost.
Looking through them had made Maxwell question for the first time whether domestic bliss was truly an oxymoron.
Romi looked up when he came into the room, her gaze not quite focused, her thoughts clearly in the past. “Max. You’re here.”
“As you see,” he replied wryly.
She smiled, her attention fixing more firmly on him. “On time. I’m impressed.”
“You said seven.”
“I did.” She closed and stacked the albums. “I thought we could eat here before going back to your place.”
So, she wasn’t going to fight spending the night with him. Good.
The relief he felt in response to that knowledge was not acute. He was simply glad to avoid that particular argument.
They had more important things to do with their time. “I have reservations.” At one of San Francisco’s best restaurants.
It also happened to be one he knew Romi enjoyed.
Romi smiled at him persuasively. “Mrs. K made her famous spinach lasagna.”
“Famous with whom?” he asked, not averse to the more private setting for their conversation.
Romi shrugged, self-deprecation in her tone. “Maddie and me.”
“Then, by all means, I must taste this famous lasagna.”
Romi’s smile was blinding then and he made no effort to squelch the urge to kiss the happily curved lips.
Afterward, while Romi put away the photo albums, he called and canceled his reservations.
The table in the formal dining room was large enough for sixteen, but only one end was set, shrinking the large space to friendly dimensions. The white linen and candles set a tone that he hoped boded well for Romi’s decision.
He pulled the light blue ring box out of his pocket and set it beside the place setting meant for Romi.
Her eyes tracked his movements, her expression for once not revealing even the smallest detail of what she was thinking. “I thought you were bringing that to dinner tomorrow.”
“I will then, too, if that is necessary.” But after last night, what were the chances Romi was really going to deny him?
Pretty low.
Maxwell spent his days assessing decisions just like this one and he rarely made a mistake. The emotional component existed in business as well.
The only true unknown entity was the way Romi’s mind worked. Her reactions were guided by a set of rules he did not understand. He was still nearly one-hundred-percent sure of the outcome.
For one thing, there was the possibility, no matter how remote, that she was pregnant.
Ramona Grayson wasn’t the type of woman to dismiss that as unimportant.
For another, she had wanted to give him her innocence. That was a gift of unparalleled importance in either of their worlds and would factor into her decision, even if she refused to acknowledge that truth to herself.
Romi didn’t answer his implied question, but took her seat. He joined her, unsurprised when Mrs. K came in with the salad course immediately.
“Tell me about your day,” he said to Romi as he spread his napkin in his lap.
She didn’t hesitate, opening up with frustrated candor about her phone call with Jeremy Archer. “He’s just so cold.”
“Business is all he knows.”
Romi dismissed that with a wave of her hand, her fork thankfully empty. “Some people would the say the same about you, but you’re not like him.”
“You don’t think so?” he asked, surprised by the observation.
He and the president of AIH had a lot in common. Though Maxwell was better at business than the older man. His killer instincts were more refined and his focus wasn’t caught up with how he looked to others. Maxwell did whatever the hell he wanted and didn’t worry if old-money San Francisco business approved.
Romi’s expression took on a rare implacability. “You wouldn’t make your daughter the pawn in a business proposal.”
“No.” Though how Romi had realized that truth in the face of what he would do, he couldn’t quite figure.
Maxwell shook his head.
“What?”
“You don’t make sense to me,” he admitted.
“So you’ve said.”
Touché. “One day I’m going to figure you out.”
“Good luck with that. I’m not always sure why I do or think the things I do.” She winked and gave him a wry smile.
Now, that did not surprise him. “Archer and I both do whatever we need to get what we want.”
“No. You’ve already
admitted you wouldn’t use your child, so you don’t do whatever. You do what you think is expedient and gives you the most control.”
She, on the other hand, understood him all too well.
“Some things are easier to control than others,” he informed her.
“You mean like people.”
“Yes.” Like her.
“Like me,” she said, echoing his thoughts.
“Like you.” It was something he was only beginning to come to terms with.
“Good. I don’t think I could consider marrying you if that weren’t true.”
He’d never considered his inability to control her would be a benefit where she was concerned. He should have. Which only showed how off his usual game he was when it came to Ramona Grayson.
He had to admit, if only to himself, he enjoyed the fact she was so difficult to pin down as well.
Regardless, he already knew she was considering his proposal; he wanted to know if she was going to accept it. “Have you come to any conclusions?”
“I’m going to turn down the director position for LZO.”
Okay, not what he’d been asking, but she knew that. “What is LZO?”
“A start-up environmental group.”
“And you’re turning down the directorship why?” He would have thought that kind of thing fit Romi to a T.
Romi waited to answer until she’d eaten another bite and taken a sip of her Australian Shiraz. “Maddie and I are starting a charter school for kids that need a break.”
“I didn’t know that.” And it chagrined him that he didn’t.
“Viktor is buying us a building as a wedding gift for Maddie. With the income from her trust and my Grayson inheritance and savings, we can swing operating expenses until we get the donor roll established.”
“I thought environmentalism was your thing.” Maxwell didn’t examine his annoyance at the thought of Viktor feeding Romi’s dream, even if it was one she shared with the man’s wife.
“And children. It’s all about making the world a better place for the generations to come, right?”
He wasn’t sure, but he liked the outlook. “I’m impressed.”
“Thanks.”
