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“Tickets from Cirque and an emerald bracelet are two separate things entirely.”
He scowled at me. “What kind of logic is that?”
“A very sensible logic,” I retorted. “I don’t want the bracelet.” Even though, staring at it, I’d thought immediately about selling it and using the money to pay off my debts—another reason why I’d refused to accept the gift. No way could I do that. Not when he’d bought something special for me and all I saw were the dollar signs—that was the exact opposite of unfair. “That bracelet was for my wrist. This is for me, yeah, but it’s for us too. We’re going together, right?” I asked, suddenly unsure.
He snorted. “Of course. Unless you want to go with a friend.”
“No, don’t be nuts. Of course I want to go with you.”
He beamed at me, and that smile hit me right in my core. This man was just so potent. And powerful, and sexy, and a thousand other adjectives that all involved some kind of nuclear meltdown below the waistline.
Before Martin Nida, I’d had sex. I’d even experienced the wonder of an orgasm. But my response to this man? It was a thousand times better than the orgasms. Just the feelings he engendered in me, the anticipation, it made me know that when we finally got together, we’d be electric.
“Well, it’s next week. I wanted it for today but they refused to reschedule,” he told me, his tone suddenly mulish.
I gaped at him. “You tried to make them reschedule for my birthday?”
He sniffed. “Of course.”
Of course.
What world was I living in now?
A world where a man could expect a circus act to reschedule everything, to drop everything, on his whim.
That it hadn’t worked pleased me. Even though I knew he’d wanted it for me, I was amused by his reaction and that was worth having to wait a week.
“You’re getting spoiled,” I told him, my tone chiding. But my voice was gravelly as I tried to hide how funny I found this situation.
“There’s no ‘getting’ about it,” Derek grumbled from his corner of the office. “He is spoiled.”
Max perched his ass on my desk—one of his favorite spots even though, a week after our second date, two chairs had magically appeared in front of my workspace. “I’m not spoiled. I just wanted to make Jessica’s birthday special.”
My throat choked at his words and I reached over to grab his knee. Squeezing, I whispered, “Thank you. It will be special though.”
“It would have been even more special if it was tonight.” He grunted. “They wouldn’t though, so we’ll just have to go somewhere else this evening.”
I licked my lips, and suddenly felt guilty for not having told him it was my birthday.
It was something so simple, yet I hadn’t shared it with him.
Why hadn’t I?
And he was so open with me. Anything I wanted to know, he’d tell me. I knew all about his father’s passing, his brother’s scare in Iraq. I knew his niece suffered with alopecia and that he had an uncle in jail.
I felt like he’d told me so much about himself, so much when I expected him to share nothing with me because he was Max Greene and therefore, should be the cold, supercilious and secretive CEO. Even with his girlfriend. But he wasn’t like that. He was open and caring, generous with himself and with his money; willing to lavish it on me in ways I hadn’t realized, with my middle class background, that money could be frittered away.
“I have plans tonight,” I told him, my voice shaky. I immediately caught the flash of a frown on his face before he studiously ironed out his features.
“Oh.”
The one vocalization had my hand tightening on his knee. I could hear the faint hurt there and hated that I’d put it there. For some reason, I glanced over at Derek and saw he was scowling.
At me.
Shit.
I sucked in a shaky breath. “W-Would you c
