“Then he’s a fool,” Maxwell said under his breath, his eyes on her sleek, pale knot of hair. “If you should decide to give someone else a chance, do let me know.”
“Yes.” For a moment, she met his warm, piercing gaze. “I will.”
In all truth, she was more attracted to Maxwell than she’d been to any other man in her life, except for Rome. She’d liked Maxwell on sight, and in a curious way she felt relaxed with him, for she sensed that he recognized the boundaries she’d set and would respect them until she gave him permission to go beyond them.
That afternoon Rome and Maxwell lingered in the hallway, finishing a discussion before leaving for the day. Sarah locked up the office and murmured a good night to them as she walked past, carefully not letting her glance linger on Rome.
Maxwell turned so he could watch her walk down the hallway, his brilliant eyes narrowed with interest. Rome’s dark gaze sharpened, and he too turned to watch Sarah, noting the grace with which she walked, the way her skirt moved fluidly about her lovely legs. He didn’t like the way Maxwell was looking at her, like a cat lovingly surveying the canary it was about to have for lunch, and a slow curl of anger began in his stomach.
“She’s a very pretty woman,” he commented, probing for a response, and every nerve in his body waited for Maxwell’s answer.
Maxwell shot him an incredulous look. “Pretty? She’s bloody beautiful. She’s so subtle, so understated, that you have to really look to see how pure and classic her face is.”
Rome had seen her face glowing with pleasure, her lips swollen from his kisses and begging for more. He was proceeding at an excruciatingly slow pace, waiting for a signal from her that she was feeling the frustration of ending their evenings with only kisses. Yes, she liked his kisses, but there was still an aloofness to her that he hadn’t been able to break, and no matter how torridly she kissed him, she didn’t invite him further. He was beginning to feel desperate, his body aching for release. He’d been devoting his evenings to her, so there’d been no casual meeting with any other woman to relieve his sexual urges. He hadn’t come up against such a mental stone wall since he’d been a randy teenager, determinedly trying to seduce his virginal girlfriend every Friday night in the backseat of his car.
But if Sarah ever lost her self-control enough to give in to passion, it would be with him. He’d be damned if he’d let Maxwell see her with that cool reserve melted into primitive heat and longing. Her desire would be his, and his alone.
“I’ve noticed how she looks,” he said evenly, but his tone signaled a warning to the other man. Maxwell looked at him sharply, then sighed.
“So, you’ve beaten me to her, have you?”
“I’ve known her for years,” Rome replied obliquely.
That elicited a snort from Maxwell. “I’ve known my mother’s housekeeper for years too, but I don’t warn men away from her.”
Rome laughed, something that had become easier during this past week. Despite himself, he liked Maxwell. Max might pursue Sarah relentlessly, but he’d never be sneaky about it; he’d simply take his chances. That made no difference to Rome’s determination to have her all to himself, but he relaxed, his eyes meeting Max’s with complete masculine understanding.
Max shrugged with an elegant movement of his lean shoulders. “I’ll be waiting in the wings, if you should fail.”
“I’m reassured,” Rome said sardonically.
Max smiled at him wryly. “Don’t be.”
CHAPTER THREE
The cocktail party to welcome Max to the Dallas headquarters was overflowing with people anxious to be seen by and talk with the upper echelon of Spencer-Nyle. Rome, Mr. Edwards, and Max were the center of attention, as they were the triumvirate that controlled billions of dollars and thousands of jobs. Mr. Edwards, a lean, quiet man whose shrewdness and corporate savvy had kept him at the top for fifteen years, had hand-chosen his lieutenants and been well-rewarded for his trust in them. Rome was being groomed for the chairmanship, which he would certainly attain when Mr. Edwards retired. Watching the ambitious young executives swarm around him, Sarah realized that it was common knowledge, up and down the ranks, that Rome was Mr. Edwards’s chosen successor. Max, on the other hand, was an unknown, but already there was an ease between him and his superiors that told everyone he was on the inside.
Tired of being pumped for information about Max, Sarah developed the strategy of staying on the move. It took a well-planned schedule to move in, take up a handful of peanuts or dip a stalk of celery into the cheese dip, then waltz on without pausing long enough to give anyone an opening. She clutched her single drink of the evening in her hand, taking tiny sips and trying to eat enough to absorb the alcohol before it could go to her head. Earlier, a quick foray into the tiny kitchen, where the caterers were frantically trying to keep pace with the appetites of the guests, had produced a small glass of milk, which she had slugged back with all the delicacy of a stevedore downing his first frosty beer after working all day in hundred-degree heat.
“You’re gobbling peanuts like you’ve been on a starvation diet,” Rome said in her ear, startling her. He took the cocktail from her hand and replaced it with a tall glass filled with a pale amber liquid and ice cubes. “There. Drink this instead. Ginger ale.” He winked at her, and finished the cocktail for her.
“I’ve already raided the refrigerator for milk,” she laughed, her eyes twinkling up at him. “Did you think I was in danger of falling on my face before the party was over?”
He regarded her somberly, noting that there was no hint of the usual sadness in her eyes that night. Whether it was the small amount of alcohol she’d drunk that made her laugh so gaily, or whether something had happened to make her happy, he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. Since it was as much a business occasion as a social one, he hadn’t brought her to the party, but he fully intended to visit her when it was over. From the way she was looking at him now, she might be relaxing those invisible restraints that had kept her from responding to him more fully.
“No, you’d never do anything as disgraceful as getting drunk,” he finally said in answer to her question. “You’re too much the perfect secretary. You already have Max eating out of your hand.”
“Max is a dear,” Sarah responded warmly, looking around for his tall, graceful figure and missing the way Rome’s eyes darkened to a stormy black. “I was fond of Mr. Graham, but I’ll admit that I enjoy working with Max more. Max keeps things hopping.”
Introducing Max into the conversation had been a mistake. Rome moved instinctively, placing himself between Sarah and the rest of the room, blocking her view of Max.
“Do you mind if I come over tonight?” he asked, but there was a harsh note in his voice that commanded rather than asked, and Sarah eyed him warily.
“If you like. I wasn’t going to stay much longer anyway. Have you had dinner, or is this all you’ve had too?” With a wave of her hand, she indicated the colorful but unfulfilling array of dips, snacks, and fresh vegetables that she’d been raiding all evening.
Rome had a healthy appetite. “I’m starving,” he admitted. “Do you want to go out for a late dinner?”
“No, I think I’d rather stay home,” she said, after considering the invitation for a moment. “I have some chicken left over from yesterday; how do you feel about chicken sandwiches?”
“I’d trade all that rabbit food for just one chicken sandwich.” His mood lightening, he grinned at her, and Sarah smiled in return. He was more relaxed with her now than he’d ever been before, and she was blooming under his attention. Perhaps he was beginning to think of her as something other than a friend; the hope of it made her radiant, and the glow of her face beckoned more than one glance from the other men in the room.
Suddenly