‘YOU can’t possibly go to the wedding with me next Saturday,’ January told Max firmly as she sat down at the table opposite him, the opportunity to tell him exactly this being the only reason she had agreed to have a drink with him at the end of the evening in the first place.
He eyed her with some amusement, blue eyes dark with suppressed laughter. ‘Why can’t I?’ he returned mildly. ‘Josh seemed perfectly sincere about the invitation.’
‘I’m sure that he was,’ January acknowledged disgruntledly, more than a little annoyed with her cousin-in-law-to-be for offhandedly having made the invitation at all. Kissing her as a stag-night bet was one thing, inviting Max to come to the wedding with her was something else entirely. ‘It simply isn’t possible,’ she insisted determinedly.
‘Why isn’t it?’ he prompted softly. ‘I didn’t get the impression, based on the fact that Josh made the invitation, that you intended going with anyone else,’ he added hardly.
‘Well, you were wrong,’ January told him stubbornly. ‘I’m going with my family,’ she enlightened impatiently as she saw the way his gaze narrowed speculatively. ‘Taking a complete stranger to the wedding with me would be tantamount to making some sort of announcement to the rest of my family,’ she added irritably as he returned her gaze blandly now. ‘An inappropriate announcement!’ She glared her annoyance at his inability not to have seen that in the first place.
He might have shown a marked interest in her the last two evenings, but she was sure he wouldn’t want to give either her or her family that particular impression!
‘It’s a week away, January.’ He shrugged. ‘A lot can happen in a week,’ he added enigmatically.
A lot always ‘happened’ in her week, her work on the farm and the singing at the hotel in the evenings keeping her more than busy—but this man, with his powerful good looks, and his rich sophistication, simply did not ‘happen’ in that life!
‘I said no, Max,’ she reiterated firmly. ‘And I meant no.’ She took a sip of her sparkling water, feeling in need of something a little stronger, but unable to do so when she still had to drive home.
‘Whatever,’ he dismissed uninterestedly. ‘You were good this evening, January,’ he changed the subject abruptly. ‘Despite having been very soundly kissed in the middle of it,’ he added hardly.
‘It was a bet, Max.’ January sighed, too tired and irritable to simply tell him to mind his own business. ‘A stag-night dare,’ she enlarged. ‘I was at school with most of that group; they thought it a great laugh to dare Josh to kiss me.’
In fact, Peter Meridew had had cause to speak to Josh and several of his friends before the end of the evening, claiming their rowdiness was disturbing the other guests.
Max gave her a look that told her precisely how unfunny he had found the whole incident, too!
Peter Meridew was one thing, but what did it really matter what Max thought? Or said, for that matter. He was a guest at the hotel—for how long, she had no idea—but pretty soon he was going to move on. And when he did, he was not going to leave a broken-hearted singer/farmer behind him!
Because she would be deceiving herself if she didn’t admit—inwardly, at least!—that she had found his earlier behaviour, in jumping to her supposed rescue, highly chivalrous. An old-fashioned description, perhaps, but that was exactly how it had seemed at the time. No wonder those ladies of old had swooned into the arms of their saviour! And she didn’t doubt for a moment that Max would have carried out his intention to knock Josh to the floor if she hadn’t stepped in and explained the situation.
‘It’s late.’ She gave a weary sigh, pushing her long dark hair back over her shoulder, looking over to give John a sympathetic smile as he cleaned the bar prior to his own shift ending for the night. ‘I really should be on my way.’ She wasn’t as late as last night, obviously, but she definitely felt more tired.
More emotional? Possibly. One thing she did know: she had better get herself as far away from Max as possible—now!—or risk giving in to that emotion.
Max gave an inclination of his head, his gaze once more as intense as it had been the previous evening. ‘You do look as if you’ve had enough for one night, would you allow me to order you a taxi?’
She gave a rueful smile. ‘There would be little point in that.’ Tempting as the offer was to relinquish the hour-long drive into someone else’s more than capable hands. ‘I don’t work tomorrow evening, so it would simply mean another drive out tomorrow to pick up my car.’
‘I wouldn’t mind picking you up.’ Max shrugged. ‘That way, you could introduce me to the rest of your family,’ he added pointedly.
And that way he would no longer be the ‘complete stranger’ to them she had accused him of being earlier! Very clever, she acknowledged admiringly—if totally out of the question.
‘I don’t think so, thanks.’ She smiled as she stood up to put an end to the conversation.
Max stood up, too, easily towering over her. ‘It really isn’t a problem,’ he assured her smoothly. ‘Besides, John was telling me earlier that you have some sort of stalker in the area…?’ He frowned as the two of them gave the barman a friendly wave before walking out into the reception area.
He did have a point there. So far, the Night Striker had only attacked women in quiet, country areas, and while the hotel car park hardly qualified as that it was pretty deserted this time of night…
‘Hmm,’ she acknowledged with a grimace. ‘Six attacks in the last six months.’
Max’s eyes darkened at the knowledge. ‘Then, if you really do insist on driving yourself home…? That’s what I thought,’ he acknowledged dryly as she gave an affirmative nod. ‘In that case, there is no way I’m going to let you walk out to the car park alone while I go upstairs to my warm and cosy hotel suite.’
‘It’s quite well lit,’ she assured him.
‘I still don’t feel happy about letting you walk to your car unescorted,’ he insisted firmly.
She could see by his determined expression that it would be no use pointing out that it was something she normally did three nights of the week. Every week. That she would do again once he had left the hotel…
‘You’re starting to sound like my elder sister May now!’ January teased as Max moved to drape her coat around her shoulders in preparation for going outside in the cold winter air.
He gave a start of surprise. ‘I’m not sure I like sounding like someone’s elder sister!’
January laughed softly. ‘Will it help if I tell you I’m very attached to both my sisters?’
‘It might,’ he conceded slowly. ‘Here, let me help you,’ he offered as she struggled to put her arms into the sleeves of her coat as the cold wind outside penetrated the thin material of her dress.
Helping her into her coat was good manners, January acknowledged frowningly; allowing his arm to drape casually across her shoulders as they walked over to her car was something else entirely!
Not that she wasn’t grateful for the added warmth of his body so close to hers—it was that closeness that bothered her. Disturbed her. Excited her!
She had never met anyone quite like Max before, finding his air of sophistication, his complete air of confidence, those overpoweringly good looks, enticing to say the least.
Admit it, January, she derided herself; you’re intrigued by the man, in spite of yourself!
Intrigued? Her heart was pounding, her pulse racing, the flush that warmed her cheeks owing nothing to the cold and everything to Max’s proximity.