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“Jesus.” He stepped back from her like she’d sprayed him with acid. “Fucking Christ.”
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, even when the entire mood had shifted and it was abundantly clear that whatever had tipped him over the line into kissing her had completely disappeared. At least for Noah.
“That should not have happened.”
“Why not?” She demanded, without moving.
He reached for her shirt, straightening it out so the arms were the right way, then holding it over her head. It had been about twenty three years since anyone had helped dress her but Max didn’t fight his intervention – she punched her arms through the sleeves, her gaze on his face the whole time.
“What’s happened? Why did you stop?”
His lips formed a tight line. “The only reason I’m here is to keep you safe. I appreciate that you’re probably bored. I appreciate that men generally throw themselves at your feet and beg to make love to you, but I’m not like normal men, and I swear to you, Max, that’s never going to happen between us.”
Hurt washed over her but she fought it, clinging to anger instead. “Says who?” She sneered, amazed at how quickly she could turn from desire to derision. “You obviously wanted me.”
“Yes, I did.” She was gratified that he didn’t attempt to deny it. “But that doesn’t mean I want anything to happen between us.”
“Let me guess. You’re too virtuous to have sex with a woman you barely know?”
His eyes narrowed. “Actually, that’s my preferred modus operandi,” he contradicted with a flatness to his voice that was completely at odds with her lightning bolt of jealousy.
“So what’s the problem?”
“We’ve dealt with that. I’m here in a professional capacity. That’s something I take seriously. I appreciate someone like you is used to getting what she wants, but I suggest you listen to what I’m saying: it’s never going to happen.”
Hurt was a blade at her side. She glared at him, valiantly hiding any such emotion, even as it ran rampant through her. How dare he?
She dug her fingernails into her palm, hating the implication that she was spoiled, that she always got her way, hating that he was the one to say it, even when she’d heard it a thousand times before. It minimized her every struggle, every obstacle, it revealed that he saw her like the rest of the world did – some entitled heiress who’d been handed everything on a silver platter, when she suddenly wanted, quite desperately, for Noah to see her as she really was.
“Oh, go to hell,” she snapped, pulling away from him and sliding off the bench, stalking through the palatial apartment with no idea that from Noah’s perspective, he was already there.
Chapter 5
“I’M GOING OUT.” She fixed him with a cold stare, totally at odds with the lava-like heat of her arteries. “I presume you’ll need to come with me?”
She’d chosen the dress on purpose, but even then, Max hadn’t been prepared for what it would feel like for Noah to see her in the dress. A red column that barely covered her ass, that had no sleeves and sat tight on her breasts, and in fact hugged her body like a second skin, she’d bought it at the fashion shows in February and had been waiting for an excuse to wear it. Getting under the skin of Noah Storm seemed like as good a reason as any. The dress on its own should have come with a health warning, but coupled with the silver Louboutins that drew attention to her long, slender legs, she looked sensual and traffic-stopping. She left her hair wild and loose over one shoulder and her make up, from the fashion show, just required a little touching up. The diamond pendant fell close enough to the valley of her cleavage, impossible to miss.
To Noah’s credit, after his initial double take, he was all bloody professionalism again, standing and reaching for his jacket in one movement. “Where to?”
Her heart sank. Great. He’d called her on her bluff and now she had to go through with it. She angled her face away, chin jutting at a defiant angle. “The after party. Elvira begged. I don’t want to let her down.”
&
nbsp; “Sure.” A single word – an agreement, for god’s sake – yet she felt exposed, as though he saw right through her and was even laughing at her. Something like acid stung her throat.
She refused to show it.
* * *
Goddamnit. He stared at her from the biggest distance he allowed – about six feet – kicking himself for the fact this was how he was spending his night. Watching her socialize, flirt, be flirted with, drooled over, adored, all from where he stood, hands in his pockets, wishing they were roaming her insanely delectable body, wishing he’d ignored common sense and decency and made her his, just like she’d begged him to.
I need this tonight.
That one little throwaway comment could just as well have been a grenade though. Max Fortescue might act like she had the world eating out of the palm of her hand but he knew better. He saw beneath the act to her vulnerability and he understood that right now, when she was literally afraid for her life, those vulnerabilities would be a huge tangle inside of her. The last thing she needed was to be taken advantage of by the guy she was relying on to protect her.
It was completely out of the question.
But damn it, he’d wanted to ignore his black and white morals, just this once. Then, instead of being in a packed, exclusive, Parisian nightspot right now he’d be investigating all the places on Max’s body that made her whimper.
