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‘What—what do you mean?’
Paul shrugged. ‘Custody problems if Cathy marries someone else, how vulnerable Nicky could be to the wrong kind of manipulation, security problems, amongst many others.’
‘Security …?’ Alex stared at him with her lips parted.
‘Stan isn’t just a gardener-cum-chauffeur.’
The scales fell from Alex’s eyes as she recalled that wherever they went Stan had contrived for some reason or other not to be far away.
But she wrenched her mind away from that. ‘I know what you’re trying to say. The obvious thing for them to do is to marry. I’ve known that almost from the beginning,’ she said starkly, ‘but if it’s not going to work that’ll hurt Nicky—’ She stopped and made a futile little gesture.
‘They were magic together once,’ Paul O’Hara said quietly. ‘But—’ he looked away embarrassedly ‘—that’s up to them. I just wanted to say to you—’ his grey gaze came back to seek hers ‘—if you need a friend who really cares about you, I’m here.’
Alex felt a rush of warmth and she quite spontaneously stood on her toes and kissed him lightly. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much,’ she breathed, but stepped away as his hands came up to circle her waist. And she took flight down the path towards the pool garden.
Once there she breathed in the night air, deliciously perfumed with jasmine and honeysuckle but very fresh, and she stood quite still to catch her breath.
Then the gate clicked open behind her and she whirled on her heel, afraid it was Paul again, but it was Max …
Instead of steadying, her breathing grew more ragged and her heart started to pound, he looked so tall, so good-looking, but with that entirely unapproachable aura again.
‘You shouldn’t have run away from Paul, Alex.’
She stared up at him, her eyes huge. ‘You … you heard?’
He shook his head. ‘Only the last bit when he offered you his friendship. But you’d have to be blind not to know there’s a whole lot more he’d like to offer you. He’s also thoroughly nice—what have you got against him?’
Alex felt a spike of sheer annoyance surge through her veins that was as unexpected as it was irrational. But, at that moment, she felt Max Goodwin was the last person she needed advice from on her—non-existent but all the same—love life. Anyway, whose fault was it Paul O’Hara didn’t affect her at all?
She opened her mouth, tried to caution herself against doing anything silly, but days of turmoil an
d trying to hide the truth from him and herself saw her suddenly snap.
She said huskily, ‘What have I got against him? He’s not you.’
She paused with her lips parted as his eyes changed, went from bleak to incredulous, then her fingers flew to her mouth in a telling little gesture that shouted her thoughts—What on earth have I done?
She also couldn’t help the blush that burned her cheeks and she lurched into speech to attempt, at least, to ground her statement in reality. ‘Not that I mean to burden you with it! I fully realize there’s probably light years between us in—in that kind of context,’ she stammered.
He said nothing but his eyes were hooded and heavy, then, ‘Light years?’ he repeated. ‘No. And perhaps this will make you understand how highly desirable you are, Alex, for once and for all. Certainly not the last woman on the planet …’ And he put his arms around her.
She stood frozen in the circle of them as his heavy blue gaze followed the line of her throat down to the rise and fall of her breasts so intently—so intently that her nipples flowered spontaneously. It drew a tingling response that spread down the length of her body and made her feel soft and satiny even though she was fully clothed.
It did more. It made her yearn for the feel of his body on hers, taut and hard against her curves, and she was possessed by the image of them undressing each other item by item until there were no barriers between them. Until she was compliant and melting inwardly at his every touch.
She noticed the little scar on his left eyebrow and she badly wanted to touch it lightly with her fingertips. She wanted, urgently, to be kissed and to be able to kiss him back.
She couldn’t help herself. She reached up and touched that little scar with her fingertip—and the flow of static between them rose dramatically as his hands tightened on her waist. And, in the moment before he bent his head to kiss her, she experienced the sensation she thought she’d misread once before. It was as if they were alone on the planet, drinking each other in.
It was everything she’d dreamt about, their kiss. The feel of his mouth on hers, his hand on her breast, fired her to revel in their closeness, to marvel at what she’d had tantalizing glimpses of, but not guessed the full wonder of—the magic of being in the arms of the man you loved. The taste, the feel, the joy at the sheer fineness of Max Goodwin in all his tall, beautifully built splendour thrilled her and filled her with exquisite sensations, but, not only that, the feeling that to be in his arms was like no other place on earth.
And all the complications of loving Max Goodwin melted away as if they’d never existed …
There also came the sudden confidence that there might not be light years between them and she could match that mind-blowing sexy force in him. In fact when he raised his head abruptly she thought it was so he could say something personal and intimate that would put the perfect seal on their togetherness.
He didn’t. He stared down at her and she could see his tortured expression before he closed his eyes briefly, then put her away from him.
Alex had a blinding, momentary sensation that she’d been left alone on a high, icy plateau. That she’d been left exposed and vulnerable and rejected.
