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‘When you leave here, Chloe, keeping our relationship a secret will become untenable,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘Someone will pick up on my visiting you. You will want me to visit, won’t you?’ he added confidently.
‘Yes, of course,’ she said without hesitation.
‘Then I see no reason why we shouldn’t appear in public together. Work on the show will have finished for the season. By the time we start the next set of episodes, the cast and crew will be used to the fact that we’ve linked up so our relationship will be taken for granted, not be a hot item for speculation. It shouldn’t cause you any discomfort. Agreed?’
She didn’t answer.
Max felt tension seizing him again as he waited. He couldn’t force her to agree with him. She had to want to. He couldn’t see her face, didn’t know what was going through her mind. Her marriage was dead. She shouldn’t be worrying about what Tony thought. Or what her mother thought. She now had her own life to do whatever she liked with it. Surely she would choose to spend as much time with him as they could arrange. No way would he accept remaining her secret lover! It was too limited!
Chloe’s mind was in turmoil. It was a daunting prospect, being publicly linked to such a powerful man, being labelled his new paramour, which would inevitably raise speculation on how long this liaison would last, given Max’s reputation for moving on. On top of that, despite the lapse of time since her separation from Tony, her relationship with Max could still be viewed as scandalous. The paparazzi would be all over every appearance they made together.
She shrank from having to face it, wishing they could still be lovers in private. These past two months had been heaven, so easy…
Easy.
The word mocked her, instantly accusing her of sliding back into her old mindset. She’d just made a stand with Max over not taking the easy path of staying with him here. Not only that, at the beginning of their affair, she’d insisted they not appear in public together until the show was wrapped up for this season and she had a place of her own. As he’d just pointed out, that time was almost up. Backtracking on her word, denying him what he wanted when he’d given her so much was simply not on. Besides, she knew she would crave his companionship, in every sense.
So what if it wasn’t easy going public!
She’d have Max at her side.
That was more important to her than anything else.
Having him.
She lifted herself up from his chest to smile that assurance at him. ‘I will be very pleased to go out with you, Max,’ she said, secretly wanting far more from him than she could ever ask or expect-like having this amazingly wonderful man with her for the rest of her life.
‘Good!’ A smile of satisfaction spread across his face.
Chloe told herself to be satisfied, too. The experience of Max had already changed her life for the better. She would always be grateful he had stepped into it…even when he stepped out of it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ON the Saturday before the last week of shooting the show, Chloe finally found a place she was happy to rent. It was a small terrace house, situated on a street that ran parallel to Centennial Park. She didn’t care that it was old and in need of some modernisation in the kitchen and bathroom. It was functional-two bedrooms upstairs, enough living space downstairs, with a small, enclosed backyard so that Luther didn’t have to be kept inside all the time-and being right across the street from the park was ideal. It was also close to the shops she knew from living at Randwick.
It was a huge emotional wrench, leaving the children’s house, saying goodbye to the three E’s, who had contributed so much to her comfort while she was staying there, moving away from the daily intimacy with Max. She was glad to have Luther’s company, staving off the loneliness she might have felt, though she occupied herself very busily during the first week after the move, arranging her belongings in her new accommodation, acquiring the furniture she needed, having a dog door inserted into the door to the backyard and teaching Luther how to use it.
Max dropped by most evenings to see how she was getting on, bringing her flowers and gourmet treats from Elaine’s kitchen. They invariably ended up in bed together, which was th
e best treat of all to Chloe. He only had to look at her and her whole body started buzzing with anticipation for the sexual connection between them.
Sometimes they didn’t make it upstairs to the bedroom. Like when he brought her a bunch of the most gloriously scented yellow roses and he took the one she’d held up to her nose and caressed her skin with it; her cheeks, her neck, down the V-neckline of her shirt, undoing the buttons, brushing it over the swell of her breasts…he’d hoisted her up on the kitchen bench and had incredibly erotic and exciting sex with her there.
He was a fantastic lover. Chloe had a losing battle on her hands, fighting to keep him at any distance from her heart. He made her feel so beautifully loved, so wonderfully cared for. Had he treated all the women in his life like this, or was she more special than the others? He’d said she was special. The tantalising question was how special? Enough to want her with him for the rest of their lives?
They started going out together. They went to parties, to charity functions, to the theatre, ballet, opera, walked the red carpet together at a film premiere. They were the talk of the town-the television baron coupled with the star of his latest hit show. Max handled the red-hot interest with practised ease. Chloe simply glowed her pleasure in his company. It wasn’t difficult. She loved being with him and didn’t care what anyone else thought.
However she did refuse one request from him, that she hostess a dinner party at Hill House. Somehow that was too much like being a pseudo-wife. Fulfilling that role was too close to her secret yearning to be his lifetime partner. She wouldn’t let herself pretend. She was finished with pretence.
In fact, she shied away from returning to Hill House at all, knowing it would tug at her heart, make her wish it was her home. It had been hard enough to leave. She didn’t want to feel that wrench over and over again.
Max grew frustrated by her turning down his invitations to join him there. ‘You liked Hill House. You liked the three E’s. They liked you. They miss you, Chloe,’ he argued.
He didn’t say he missed her. Max wasn’t into revealing any weakness in himself. There were no cracks in his self-contained armour. She had to learn to be self-contained, too. ‘It’s your home, Max. I don’t belong there,’ she quietly asserted.
He frowned. ’You don’t have to belong. What’s wrong with visiting?’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t go back. I have to move on in my own way. You see me as much as you like, don’t you? We go out a lot together. Doesn’t that satisfy what you want from me in our relationship?’
