She’d never given up before, even when the doctors had given up on her. Even when she fought to overcome the nightmares, the loss of her family and her memory, she’d never given up.
She wanted Maxwell Knight. And she wouldn’t give up until she had him—totally.
Chapter 4
Religiously, every Saturday morning for the past fifteen years, Maxwell went to the dojo, either in the role of the Sahbamin—teacher—or to work out. His class of eight-year-olds were not due to arrive for two hours.
When he arrived, the only other person present was his best friend, Chris Lewis. He was glad to see his buddy, who’d just returned from a martial arts tournament. He needed to talk.
Maxwell stowed his small duffel bag in his locker and changed into his gui. Shortly, he joined Chris in the small room where they meditated before each session.
Chris and Maxwell bowed toward each other and silently took their places on the straw mats. The peaceful atmosphere of the dojo was what Maxwell needed. His spirit was in disarray. He couldn’t seem to focus or center his energy. And he’d been that way since Reese Delaware steamrolled into his life.
How was he going to be able to accomplish all that needed to be done in the next month when images of Reese haunted his every thought?
“You’re not here today, brother,” Chris said as they left the prayer room. “What’s up?”
Maxwell walked out onto the practice floor, trying to form the words to explain to his friend.
As graceful as a gazelle, Maxwell moved through his warm-up paces of Tai Kwon Do, the only martial art accepted in Olympic competition. The intricate combinations of kicks and punches were a marvel to watch and difficult to master.
“Remember I told you about the Board’s decision to allow a full-fledged article to be written about me and the company?”
“Yeah, I remember, and I had to listen to you bitch and moan about it for weeks.” He chuckled. “So…what happened?”
Maxwell took a deep breath and on the exhale lashed out his right leg, cutting sharply through the air. He glanced briefly at Chris from the corner of his eye. “She’s here.”
Chris’s eyes widened. “She?”
A quirky smile played around the corners of Maxwell’s mouth. “Yeah, she.”
“Well don’t stop there. I take it she’s the reason why you’re performing like an amateur instead of a master teacher,” he said, observing Maxwell’s uncharacteristically choppy moves.
Maxwell dropped his hands to his sides and unclenched his fists. He crossed the huge room and took a seat on the wooden bench. Chris joined him.
“She…she has my head all messed up,” Maxwell confessed, avoiding Chris’s questioning looks. He braced his forearms on his muscled thighs and leaned forward.
“She must really be something if she can raise your blood pressure. I’ve never known you to give a woman any more of your time than was absolutely necessary,” he chuckled.
Maxwell laughed, then slowly sobered. “She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before,” he said, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Every time I’m round her my hormones go on a rampage.”
“Sounds like you need to just get it on and get it out of your system,” Chris hedged, trying to goad his brother-friend into confessing what was really bothering him.
“It’s not about sex, man. I mean, that’s part of it,” he added, feeling the throb of excitement just thinking about the possibilities. “But it’s more than that.” He shook his head in confusion, trying to find the words. “There’s this…connection that I feel when I’m with her. She’s exciting, intelligent, fun. She has this way of making me take a real look at myself. She’s not afraid to challenge me.”
“She sounds like a powerful lady.” He patted Maxwell on the back. “Just the medicine you need, my brother. So what’s the problem?”
“The same problem I always have. I just can’t let go. How do I know if she’s really interested in me, or just wants my story?”
“You won’t until you put yourself out there and find out. Listen, I know you’ve been burned—bad. Victoria Davenport was a first-class bitch. I know that your Moms and Pops left a lot to be desired as parents. But there comes a time when you have to dust yourself off and try again.”
Maxwell stood up. “Easier said than done.”
“Give her a chance, man. Forget the fact that she’s a reporter. And go with what you feel.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Chris rose and joined his friend in the center of the floor. “That’s your problem, my brother. You think too much.” Maxwell laughed.
“So, what’s this wonder woman’s name?”
“Reese,” he said wistfully. “Reese Delaware.”
Reese sat curled up on the couch, all traces of her headache from the previous night completely gone. She sipped a cup of herbal tea, while keying in the beginnings of her article on her laptop.
Maxwell Knight was definitely the most intriguing man she’d ever met. There were so many layers to his personality, but for some reason, he only chose to display one. She put the portable computer aside and got up. Crossing the small living area, she went to the window.
She wrapped her arms around her waist and sighed. Max was a man with a past, a part of him that he wished to keep hidden from the world. In that respect, they were totally dissimilar. For the past fifteen years, she’d tried desperately to remove the veil that shrouded her life, and had failed.
She turned away from the New York skyline. She was getting too close to this story. She was losing her objectivity. That was totally unlike her.
That was probably the reason for the sudden return of the headaches and the nightmares. She was becoming too involved with her subject.
She couldn’t let that happen. This assignment was the chance of a lifetime—an opportunity that every journalist salivates for.
Reese smiled in resignation. Unfortunately, it was too late. What she was beginning to feel for Maxwell Knight had absolutely nothing to do with her job. But everything to do with her being a woman who wanted a man as much as she wanted to breathe.
The ringing phone pulled her rudely away from her reverie.
“Hello?”
“Good morning. I was calling to see how you were feeling.”
The pulse began to pound in her ears, and the little butterflies went berserk in her tummy.
“I’m feeling fabulous, Max. Thanks to you.”
“Did you sleep well?”
Not as well as I could have if you’d stayed, she wanted to say. “Very well. And you?”
“Let’s bypass the small talk,” he said suddenly, needing to take the plunge. “Are you dressed?”
“For what?” she teased, and his thoughts went out of order.
“For company. I want to come—over,” he uttered, his comment full of innuendo. “Then I thought I’d take you around the city before we leave in the morning.”
Her spirits soared. She was grinning so hard her jaw began to ache. “I’ll be here,” she said, her voice full of invitation.
“And I’ll be there, shortly.”