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“Good girl. See, you did it.”
She drew back to see they were standing in the hallway, just in front of the closed elevator doors. Then she formed her hands into fists to whack his chest.
“You suck.”
“Hmm, I wouldn’t object if you sucked.” He winked at her.
Her mouth dropped open.
This. Guy.
“That was beneath you,” she told him.
He slowly shook his head. “You know, as soon as I said it, I realized how bad it was. I can do better than that.”
“You really can.”
He started directing her down toward her apartment and it was a sign of how exhausted she was that she didn’t resist.
They stopped outside her apartment door.
“Where are your keys?” he asked as she stood there, staring at the door.
“Just wait a moment. I’m hoping it will open using the power of my mind.”
“While I’d generally be all for experimentation of the mind, your body is about to give in. Keys, baby.”
“Stop calling me baby,” she protested without any real conviction as she searched through her handbag for her keys. Where were those damn things?
“You don’t like it?”
That was just the problem. She liked it way too much.
“Did you lose your keys?”
“I never lose anything. They’re in here. I know they are.” She found them as the apartment door next to hers opened.
“Oh, Aston, I thought I heard you.” Eva smiled as she looked out at them both, her gaze eating Maxim up.
She tried not to tense. Not to push her way between them both to stop Eva from staring at him.
What right did she have to be jealous?
“Hello, Mr. Malone.”
“Call me Maxim. Mr. Malone is my father,” Maxim said with an easy smile.
“Hi, Maxim,” Eva purred.
Good Lord. Had Eva forgotten that she had a husband? What was she doing talking to Maxim like that?
Eva shot her a look that she didn’t understand, or maybe she just didn’t want to. Couldn’t the other woman see that she was wet and freezing?
Aston stuck the key in the lock, but she didn’t push it in far enough, and it fell to the floor.
Motherfudger.
“I’m Eva.” Eva smiled at Maxim.
“Here, let me get that.” Maxim bent and grabbed the keys at the same time she did.
Both of them banged their heads together. She groaned.
Ouch.
“Well, there’s some déjà vu,” Maxim muttered with a laugh, rubbing his forehead.
“Your head is still made of concrete,” she complained.
“Oh no, are you all right, Maxim?” Eva asked.
“Nope. Pretty sure I’ve got a concussion.”
“Oh dear! Do you want to come and sit down? Aston, you need to get him an ice pack!”
Aston gaped at Eva. Was she for real right now? What about Aston? She’d hit her head too. And even though she was standing there, doing a good impersonation of a popsicle, Eva only cared about Maxim?
Fudge it.
“Get him an ice pack if you want. I’m going inside for a hot shower.”
Maxim had gotten her key and had put it in the lock on his first try.
Show off.
He unlocked it and she hastily opened the door.
“Oh, but, Aston, I wanted to ask you a favor—”
Aston moved quickly through the doorway and turned to slam the door shut.
In Eva’s face.
She’d feel bad about that later. When she was dry and warm.
“Whoa, is she always like that?”
Crap. How had she not noticed that Maxim had landed on the wrong side of the door?
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“You know, short-term memory loss at your age is worrying.” He looked around her apartment.
“You d-don’t know how old I a-am.”
He tilted his head. “You’re right, I don’t. But I’m guessing you’re under seventy, so it’s worrying.”
She heaved out a breath. He guessed she was under seventy? Ouch. He could have said under forty.
“Take your clothes off.”
She gaped at him. Um. She couldn’t have heard him correctly, right?
“Take your clothes off, Aston,” he repeated firmly. “You’re freezing and you’re going to get sick.”
She was already worried that it was too late. That tickle in her throat was becoming more like a razor blade.
But she wasn’t going to let it take hold. Aston didn’t get sick. She didn’t allow herself to get ill.
So she would just fight it back the way she did everything.
On her own and with sheer stubbornness.
“Clothes off. Hot shower. Now.” He took the items from her arms and put them on the table at the entrance. Then he turned her around. All the apartments she’d seen in this building had the same layout. Small entrance leading to an open-plan kitchen and living area. Beyond that was a hallway that led down to the bedrooms and bathroom. This apartment had just one bedroom, the one next door, where Eva lived, had two.
Shoot. She was going to have to apologize for being rude.
Something slapped her on the ass. “Get moving.”
He didn’t . . . he couldn’t have, right?
Spinning back, she gaped at him. “You did not just smack my ass.”
