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“What do you mean?” His voice was rougher than he intended. Damn woman. He didn’t need this kind of aggravation.
Cynthia’s smile faltered. “Just what I said. I want to get back together.”
He bit back the growl threatening to erupt from his throat. “But…Idon’t.”
Her lips turned down, and her blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Max sighed. He didn’t want to hurt her, but after the previous night, nothing could keep him from Anna. Not Cynthia changing her mind. Not the ruckus canceling the wedding would cause. Not even Anna herself would keep Max from possessing every inch of her sweet body, heart, and soul. She already owned his, so it was just fair that she gave herself over to what they had.
But first, he had to clear up this mess. And, because it was mainly his creation since he’d proposed in the first place, he reminded himself to keep his voice calm. Cynthia had just had second thoughts, or she was smoking crack. Either way, loud noises and big arm movements scared her and extended the time he had to deal with her.
“Cynthia, I thought you had decided you didn’t want to marry me. You said that very thing at lunch yesterday.”
“Yes.” She looked away nervously, then apparently gained an ounce of gumption and met his gaze. The determination was there, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. If so, she wouldn’t have looked so sad. “But then I tried to call you last night, and you didn’t answer your home or cell phone. I left several messages. Where were you?”
Max didn’t answer the question because he didn’t even want to go there. He didn’t feel guilty about Anna, but he also didn’t want to slap Cynthia in the face with another woman, especially Anna. It also wasn’t any of her damned business. He motioned toward one of the chairs situated in front of his desk. After setting his briefcase down, he settled himself in his chair behind the desk and waited for her to continue.
“I…I tried to tell Daddy last night, but when I did, he became angry.”
She sniffled into her tissue. If he thought she truly had changed her mind, he’d feel badly, but he had a feeling there was something else to it.
“Cynthia, you don’t want to marry me.”
Her head shot up and a look of mortification passed over her face. It was quickly followed by fear. Jesus, something bad must have happened.
“But he threw a fit.” She visibly swallowed and her fingers tightened on the tissue she held. “I-I’ve never seen him quite that angry before. I mean, you know Daddy, he has a really bad temper, but he usually keeps it under lock and key.”
No, he didn’t, but Cynthia didn’t do business with her father. He was known for being ruthless and vindictive. Chandler Industries did business with him because they needed his transportation services, but since Max took over from his father, there had been much discussion of switching to someone else. Until he threw his daughter at Max.
Max had been pretty sure her father never really took it out on Cynthia. The bastard was probably to blame for Cynthia’s low self-esteem. But something cold slid into his stomach when he looked at the terror Cynthia exhibited. “Cynthia, your father didn’t do anything to hurt you, did he?”
She shook her head and blew her nose in the most unladylike manner. He would have smiled if he didn’t think she’d take it the wrong way.
“No. He said he would cut me off if I didn’t marry you.”
This wasn’t going to be easy. Cynthia had little to no skills. She had a degree in something like art design but had never worked a day in her life. Just like her mother, Cynthia had been groomed for life as an executive’s wife. It was practically medieval. And that probably made him a bastard because he should have thought about the woman he was marrying. He should have had some kind of thought to her personal and professional life beyond him. Truth was, she had no means of supporting herself.
“I sympathize with the position you’re in, Cynthia, but I’m not going to marry you. You broke it off and I’ve…changed my mind.”
He couldn’t help the smile curving his lips as images of his morning shower with Anna flashed in his mind. Just thinking about sliding his hands across her wet skin sent his blood racing to his groin. Max shifted in his chair to relieve the tightness of his pants.
Cynthia’s eyes narrowed, and the tears mysteriously disappeared.
“Where were you last night?” Accusation threaded her voice.
Irritation inched down his spine. Max didn’t like to be questioned, and he really didn’t care for her tone. She’d lost the right to question his whereabouts when she’d tossed up his ring at a lunch for which he paid.
“I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Cynthia.”
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I’m your fiancée. I think I have every right to know where you were last night.”
Max leaned forward, placing his forearms on the desk. “Cynthia, we broke up yesterday. You said you didn’t want to get married to me. You are no longer my fiancée.”
Cynthia blinked, probably because she wasn’t used to his harsh tone. He’d always used a gentle tone with her because he didn’t want her to start crying.
Damn, but he dodged a bullet yesterday.
“But I changed my mind, Max.” Cynthia smiled tentatively, apparently unsure of his reaction.
“But I haven’t. I don’t want to get married anymore.”
