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“It sounds as if you’re trying to put me off.”
“I can work in New York. I’m there several times a year as it is.”
Quietly, we regard each other. Max is obviously looking ahead and making room for me in his future. Apart from Tilly, I’ve never met anyone so determined, so emphatically obvious about my role in their life.
“I’m never letting you out of my sight, remember? If you go to New York, so am I.”
One by one the items are auctioned off, a much loved British comedian the compere tonight. When we get to Max’s bracelet, the bidding is quick, Max proud of the price it sells for. “Went for more than the shop price,” he whispers in my ear.
When it’s time for the Canada house there is other interest. Max only bids when it seems the bidding parties aren’t fighting it out as avidly as they were to begin with. But his delay in getting involved has me anxious, and I cling to his arm, hiding my face in his shoulder.
The price goes up and up as he appears to get into a bidding war with a woman on the far side of the ballroom. Eventually, Max wins it for a staggering sum.
Will and Kate cheer our success, giddy smiles on their faces. Earlier on in the evening, one of his cricket bats was sold.
“Thank you,” I murmur to Max. “I’m sorry I cost you so much money.”
He kisses me. “No amount of money would be enough for you. No amount of money would be too much.”
“Because I’m going to make you a fortune in sales, right?” I tease, to which he laughs heartily.
“The biggest payday,” he agrees, gathering up my hand and holding on tight.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
AVA
Hangingmy evening dress back up on the rail in the dressing room, I look at the short silver-white dress that made me feel off-kilter earlier. I’m not sure what it is about it but decide to push it from my mind. Instead, I think about Max’s request in the car—something he alerted me to at the auction—that I meet his parents soon.They’re keen to meet you,he told me, pride in his voice.
In just the borrowed heels and Max’s jewellery, I walk towards the bedroom, pausing at the ash threshold. I drape an arm up above my head and cock my hip.
Max is unbuttoning his shirt, but stops as soon as he clocks what I’m up to. A very masculine smile appears, one he tries to rub away, his thumb grazing the corner of his mouth.
“Fuck me,” he murmurs. His eyes drop lower over my exposed body, a predatory glint in his eyes. Without looking away, he reaches for his phone on the chest of drawers. I’m about to hide everything on show when he breathes out, “Don’t move a muscle. Can I?”
“Just you,” I state clearly.
“Only me. Something to remember you by when you’re not here.”
He takes several pictures. The lighting is low—just a couple of bedside lamps creating a soft pornographic glow. “Undo your hair.”
I pick out the pins, shaking it loose as Max takes more photographs. He skims through them, his gaze smouldering when he looks at me. “Come ride me.”
Slowly, channeling as much inner sex goddess as I can, I walk towards him. As soon as I’m within arm’s length he grabs my waist, his eyes hooded. “You know how to cheer a guy up.”
“What’s happened?” I ask, running my fingers through his messily styled hair. “Did you pay too much for the ski house?”
His thumbs brush the underside of my breasts. “No, other stuff is going on.” His lips tease my stiff nipples, moving from one to the other before flattening his tongue between my cleavage and licking a savouring path to my throat. “Fuck, I want to eat you up.”
With my fingers tangled in his hair, I pull his head back. Carefully, I look at him, wondering what he’s been carrying, hiding from me as he helped me these past weeks. Leaning down, I kiss him because he’s too gorgeous, and because clearly he needs cheering up. And he looked so handsome in his Armani tux tonight, cutting an impeccable figure.
“Undress me, beautiful.”
His bow tie and jacket went as we climbed the stairs, so I unpick the remaining buttons of his shirt to reveal smooth, tanned skin. I stroke my hand over his chest, the dusting of chest hair tickling my palm before I unfasten the cufflinks, each one heavy and made by his company. The watch though, is Rolex, one of several he owns.
I push the shirt over his shoulders. Max helps, stripping it from his arms before throwing it to the floor. Kneeling, my hands fumble at his belt, unbuckling it as quickly as possible, my heart pattering excitedly. The buckle jangles as I rip it apart, my fingers desperately tugging the zip down. Reaching inside, I wrap my hand around him and squeeze.
Then I’m lifted, scooped up in his arms before he drops me to the bed. Quickly, I unfasten my shoes before leaning back on my elbows to enjoy the show as he strips off his trousers and the black boxers underneath. He climbs onto the bed and settles against the headboard, holding out his hand for me.
