Читать книгу Intimate Betrayal - Donna Hill - Страница 14

“After we check into the hotel, I need to head over to the office,” Maxwell announced, as they moved through Los Angeles International Airport.

Reese and Carmen doubled their steps to keep up with his brisk, long-legged strides.

“I’ll be going with you,” Reese stated. “So I’ll need a few minutes to freshen up.”

Maxwell looked at her over his shoulder. He wanted to say that she looked fabulous just the way she was. Her raven mane was twisted into a fuss-free French roll, and her statuesque form was coated in a teal suit of micro-silk with a skirt that hit her just above those gorgeous knees. His eyes snaked down to those luscious legs that were shadowed by a sheer pair of black hose. Briefly he wondered if she wore pantyhose or real stockings with garter belts. In any event, there was no way she looked like she’d been on a plane for six hours.

“If you think it’s necessary—to freshen up,” he qualified. “But I don’t have time to wait around all afternoon.”

Reese and Carmen exchanged glances. “I’ll be sure not to keep you waiting—too long,” Reese coed sweetly.

Once inside her hotel room, Reese was suitably impressed. This room outdid the Hilton by light years. The living area looked out onto rows of swaying palms and gentle breezes. The thick ecru carpet was so deep it tickled her ankles when she walked. She crossed the room and twisted the gold knob of the door.

Her breath caught in her throat. A huge canopy bed of eggshell white demanded her immediate attention. Along the canopy’s posters, white diaphanous fabric was dramatically draped. She smiled. Maxwell Knight certainly knew how to do things with panache.

Reese quickly tucked her suitcase and garment bag in the walk-in closet. She’d unpack later. She unzipped her garment bag and retrieved a pale peach suit of clinging rayon and silk. From another zippered compartment she took out a matching pair of low-heeled sandals. In record time, she’d changed clothes, repaired her minimal makeup, and tucked in some stray strands of hair.

Satisfied with her transformation, she grabbed her purse and briefcase and headed out of the suite. As soon as she stepped off of the elevator, she spotted the unmistakable figure of Maxwell pacing among the lobby crowd. For a moment, a rush of electricity whizzed through her, and she stood still as an Egyptian statue. To watch him, unobserved, was to see raw energy barely contained beneath bone and sinew. What would it be like to unleash that energy, to see it reach its apex? How would she ever find the words to convey to the reader what was almost mystical, something that had to be experienced—not explained—especially now when her emotions were beginning to cloud her judgment?

It was as if he sensed her presence, like a jungle cat becoming aware of a predator. He turned, not his whole body, just his head and looked straight at her with those incredible eyes.

The sudden contact caused Reese’s heart to slam mercilessly in her chest. There was no mistake. What she saw in his eyes was pure, unadulterated hunger.

The current that snapped back and forth between them was broken when Carmen approached Maxwell and tapped him on the shoulder.

“The car is out front,” she said.

Maxwell tore his gaze away from Reese and she was finally freed from the magnetic hold of his eyes.

Putting on her best smile, she approached the duo. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

The hot coals of his eyes raked over her, and it took all she had not to tremble.

“Not at all. I just came down myself.”

Reese couldn’t have been more stunned if he’d smacked her. Where were the cutting remarks, the sarcasm?

Maxwell sat opposite Reese and Carmen in the limousine. “Did you talk with the housekeeper, Carmen?”

“Yes. Everything is in order. You can have your things sent over whenever you’re ready.”

“Great. Thanks. If you could take care of that for me while Ms. Delaware and I are at the office, I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Curiously, Reese looked from one to the other waiting for someone to clue her in on what was going on. No one did. So she did what came naturally. She asked.

“Is there some reason why you’re not staying at the hotel, Max?”

“Yes, there is.” One reason is because I don’t know how I’d be able to resist sneaking into your room each night, he thought. But instead he said, “I always promised myself that if I had to be away from home for long periods of time I’d have someplace I could call my own. I’m sure you’ll be quite comfortable at the hotel,” he added, seeming to want to assure her that the hotel was above reproach.

How interesting, she mused and made a mental note to explore that little revelation at a later date. “I’d love to see it before we leave.”

Maxwell cleared his throat. “I’ll make sure that you do,” he returned, his simple statement full of innuendo.

Where the New York office was charged with an unmistakable energy, the L.A. contingent epitomized California cool. The techs ambled, never rushed, down the corridors. Everyone smiled and looked as though they were headed to the beach instead of one of the fastest growing engineering companies on both coasts.

As they made their way around the winding maze of cubicles and labs, in and out of security checkpoints, it seemed that every staff member found a way to gain Maxwell’s attention. Everyone seemed thoroughly pleased that he’d returned.

“Max, good to have you back,” enthused a fiftyish-looking engineer who stopped Maxwell just outside of his office.

Maxwell actually beamed with warmth, Reese noticed, as the two men embraced in a hearty bear hug. Maxwell turned to face Carmen and Reese with his arm draped across the man’s shoulders.

This brief moment hinted at a dimension of his personality that he very infrequently allowed to be revealed, Reese realized, as another corner of her heart softened.

“I’d like to introduce you to Reese Delaware. Ms. Delaware is the journalist from Visions Magazine.”

At least he didn’t call me a reporter.

“Ms. Delaware, this is Raymond St. John, the man who runs things in my absence—and when I’m here,” he added, his laughter rumbling from deep in his chest.

Raymond stretched out his large hand to Reese, which she shook. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Delaware. Don’t let ole Max give you a hard time,” he added in a faint accent that she couldn’t quite place. It was a melodic cross between Caribbean and Southern. She made another mental note and picked up the conversation.

“He just gets a little itchy and cranky around reporters. But he really is a right nice sorta fella,” he chuckled, miming an exaggerated drawl.

“That remains to be seen,” Reese teased, giving Raymond the benefit of her best smile.

“You just keep working on him,” he offered in a stage whisper. “Get Carmen’s help,” he added, winking at Carmen. “She’s the only one who can keep him in line.”

“The way the two of you are talking, you’re acting like I’m not even here,” Maxwell shot in, pretending offense.

“I guess that’s my cue,” Raymond said. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Delaware. If you need anything, my office is right down the hall.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that and please call me Reese.”

“I sure will. As long as you call me R.J.”

“Done.”

Raymond moved down the hallway and disappeared around the corner.

“Are the two of you about ready?” Maxwell snapped in a low rumble, annoyed by the innocent flirting between R.J. and Reese. He opened the door and stepped inside.

Carmen and Reese shared a curious look and crossed the threshold.

Reese’s feet were on fire by the time Maxwell finished his tour of the tri-level facility. She’d lost count of the rooms, offices and various labs, not to mention the basement, and subbasement where all of the computer chips and electronic tapes were fabricated. No wonder everyone she ran into, no matter how fashionably they were dressed, wore sneakers.

What unnerved her the most was that Maxwell seemed to draw some sort of macabre pleasure at seeing her gritting her teeth from the ache in her toes. What happened to the man who all but admitted that something was happening between them?

“That about covers everything,” he announced, when they returned to his office three hours later. He turned to her with what she’d swear was a look of mock concern. “I hope the tour wasn’t too tiring. You do look a bit exhausted. Tokyo will be even more grueling. There are three different locations that I’ve selected, spread out across the provinces.” He smiled a cat-like grin. “I hope you’re up to it.”

“I appreciated your concern,” she replied in a tone strung as tight as the skin across a drum. “But there’s no reason for it. So you don’t have to pretend to care one way or the other.”

“Whatever you may think of me, I’m not insensitive,” he said in a voice so soft she felt herself drawing closer to be sure she’d heard correctly.

Sensing a moment of vulnerability, Reese took a deep breath and decided to take a chance. Purposefully she crossed the room and sat in a chair opposite his desk. She looked up at him.

“Then why do you treat me as though I was some awful thing that has been dropped in your midst one minute and then act like you want to rip my clothes off the next? I know being followed around isn’t easy. I know having someone ask questions about you from every Bubba, Buck, and Betty that knows you isn’t always pleasant. But for the most part, a person in your position would kill for an opportunity like this. What is it that bothers you so much? Is it me?”

Maxwell looked at her for a long moment, seeing hurt, outrage and genuine concern brimming in her amber eyes.

“Are you hungry?” he asked in that same alluring tone, as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “I’m starved, and I know a wonderful restaurant where we can relax and talk.”

She opened her mouth to toss out a sarcastic retort, but when she saw the gentle look in his eyes, she changed her mind. “Sounds perfect.”

They rode for more than a half hour in silence. The only sounds were the soft notes of music coming from the incredible stereo system of Maxwell’s black-on-black Corvette—his West Coast mode of transport.

He drove with a single-mindedness, intense—just as he appeared in every area of his life. A sudden, hot flush flooded Reese when she contemplated the thought of what he would be like as a lover. Would he be just as focused and controlled—just as relentless, consuming everything around him and giving little in return? Or was that the one aspect of the inscrutable Maxwell Knight that became unleashed?

She was so involved in her erotic meanderings that she didn’t realize they’d stopped until Maxwell was at her side with the door open.

He leaned slightly forward and extended his hand. “We’re here.”

She looked up at him and her breath stuck in her throat when she saw the undeniable look of hunger dance in his exotic eyes. Almost as if afraid of being burned, she cautiously placed her hand in his.

The restaurant he’d selected was a half mile from the beach. From the vantage point of their table by the window, Reese could see the shoreline being stroked by the gentle lapping of the waves. Just off the horizon, the setting sun cast a brilliant orange glow across the shimmering water.

For several moments, Reese stared at the tranquil scene absorbing its beauty, allowing the moment to fill her with an inner peace.

While in profile, Maxwell seized the moment to enjoy watching Reese, unobserved, and felt the steady stirring within him. As much as he tried to deny it, Reese Delaware was getting under his skin and damnit, he wanted to keep her there. She embodied all of the qualities he’d want in his woman: brains, wit, confidence, honesty, beauty, and sexy as all hell. But he’d been burned before and wasn’t sure if he could handle it again. What if he opened up to her, really opened up, and she spilled his deepest thoughts and dreams onto paper. His father had nearly been destroyed by a news-hungry journalist, and then they came after him when Victoria turned on him. It had taken months and a crack public-relations firm to cool the heels of the reporters.

He sighed in silence. He didn’t get to where he was by not taking risks. And there was no question that Reese posed risks he probably could never conceive of.

As if aware of his close scrutiny, Reese turned her gaze in his direction and without preamble asked, “What are you thinking about, Max, right this minute?” She leaned forward as if his answer held the wisdom of the universe. Her eyes were transfixed on his face.

“I was wondering if I should take a chance—Reese.” He, too, leaned closer until only the small glass centerpiece that held a scented candle separated them. He looked at her over the flickering flame. “I have every reason to be wary of you. My gut instinct tells me that I should give you the bare minimum and send you on your way.”

“But,” she whispered.

His chuckle was soft, deprecating. “But—” he smiled “—what I’m beginning to feel about you is telling me otherwise.”

Reese grinned seductively. “Are you saying that you’re having feelings for me Mr. Knight?” She ran her pearl-polished nail across his knuckle.

Maxwell laughed outright, shaking his head while he enclosed her hand in his. “Reese, any man would be a fool not to fall all over himself trying to find out what makes you tick.” His voice descended another octave, and he stared into her questioning gaze. “And I don’t consider myself to be anybody’s fool.”

Reese continued to look at him even as she raised his hand and brushed her moist lips across his knuckles. “Why don’t we start from here, today,” she said in her throaty voice, “to get to know each other and save the interviewing for the office.” Her eyes were the wind racing across his face. “There are so many things I want to know about you—and believe me, they have nothing to do with my job.” She grinned wickedly.

Maxwell’s smile matched hers. “Things like what?” he challenged.

Reese opened her mouth to respond, when a shadow and the scent of Chanel No. 5 floated across their table. They both looked up simultaneously. Reese was instantly alert to the mixture of shock, anger, and something she couldn’t place on Maxwell’s face.

“Victoria,” he said, his voice laden with memories.

The striking woman moved closer, her startling green eyes zeroing in on Maxwell. She reached for him, her long, slender hand the color of suntanned porcelain, clasped his, the one that had moments ago held Reese’s.

“It’s so good to see you again, Max.” Her voice was light, almost musical in its quality, Reese noted with annoyance. Who was this woman and why in the devil did she have to show up now?

Victoria bent, daintily at the knee until she was eye-level with Maxwell. “How long will you be in town?”

He ignored her question, knowing that he’d answered it when they’d spoken on the phone. He eased his hand from her grasp and indicated Reese.

“Reese Delaware, this is Victoria Davenport.” Reese spotted the telltale tightening of his jaw.

Slowly Victoria rose and Reese had the unsettling sensation that she knew this woman with the silky strawberry blond hair and green eyes. A dull pounding began in her temple. She winced.

Victoria summoned all of her self-control to quell the rage that bubbled to the surface like hot lava. So this was her. In the flesh. Her half sister. She swallowed her pride, and recalled her promise to her mother on her deathbed. Her smile never reached her uncanny eyes. “Nice to meet you. How did you two meet?” she asked in a sugar-based voice.

Maxwell leaned back in his seat. “Ms. Delaware is a journalist from Visions Magazine.”

“Oh, yes,” she said brightly. “I believe you did mention that on the phone.”

Inwardly Reese cringed. So they’d spoken on the phone—recently. “Where are you from?” Reese queried, in her get-on-the-good-side interviewer’s voice. “That’s definitely not a California accent I hear.” Her smile was full of encouragement, laced with venom.

Victoria tossed her mid-back-length hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head—an affectation that Maxwell, at one time, thought was sexy. Now it annoyed him.

Victoria’s smile was slow in coming. “Norfolk, Virginia. And you?”

“I grew up in Arlington, Virginia,” Reese said slowly, as though searching for her thoughts.

Victoria felt a tightness in her chest. Her heart began to race. They’d practically been neighbors—all those years, she thought, the blood boiling in her veins with a surge of jealousy. “What a small world.” She forced a smile.

Maxwell watched the exchange with growing interest. The two women were like night and day in personality and in looks. Reese with her dark beauty and Victoria with her lighter than air looks. How curious, he mused, that he had been, and now was, attracted to such opposites.

“Well,” Victoria said on a long breath. “I must be going. I have some business clients waiting for me. Nice meeting you, Reese.” She turned her attention toward Maxwell. “And I hope we can…get together before you head off to Tokyo.”

“I don’t see where I’ll have time.” He hesitated. “But maybe I’ll give you a call.”

She dug in her purse, pulled out a business card and jotted down a number. She handed the card to Maxwell. “Try,” she softly urged. “That’s the number where I’ll be staying.” She nodded in Reese’s direction and glided away.

“So how long were you two involved?” Reese boldly asked.

“It’s not anything I care to discuss,” he replied succinctly, shutting down any further discussion on the subject of Victoria Davenport.

But even though Victoria was no longer in their midst, they were unable to recapture that brief moment of intimacy.

They ate their meal of steamed mussels and garnished spaghetti in relative silence, punctuated by brief comments about the city of Los Angeles and places they’d traveled.

“I always envisioned Japan as an extremely exotic and mystical place,” Reese said, as Maxwell drove toward the hotel.

He chuckled. “A lot of that is pure hype. For the most part, it’s just like any other bustling metropolis, only more crowded.”

“Humph. A lot of fun you are,” she scoffed. “You’ve completely ruined my fantasy.”

Maxwell sobered and slanted his eyes in her direction. “Seems like a few things got ruined tonight.”

“We did seem to get sidetracked. But it isn’t anything that can’t be fixed.” She turned in her seat to face his profile and waited.

Maxwell cut the engine of the Corvette. For a split second before he turned to her, he pursed his lips as if debating the inevitable. Catlike he turned toward her, his dark exotic eyes skimming across her face. His gaze seemed to hold her breath captive in her chest, and she began to feel the drumming of her pulse in her ears.

By infinitesimal degrees he leaned closer, his eyes never leaving her face. Just as his mouth was a whisper away from her, Reese’s eyes fluttered closed in anticipation.

In a heady whisper, he commanded, “Look at me.”

Reese slowly opened her eyes and was instantly drawn downward into the twin pools of midnight. His lips captured hers, his mouth hot, hard and moist. Unbidden, a sigh rose from deep in her throat when his tongue ran across her parted lips, before conquering the depths of her waiting mouth.

Fingers of steel clasped her head, pulling her closer, deeper into the kiss, while Reese clung to his shirt as if afraid of drowning in the tidal wave of the coupling.

A moan tore from Maxwell’s throat as he pulled slowly away. Gingerly he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. He hadn’t expected a simple kiss to affect him the way Reese’s kisses did. Each time that his lips met hers, he lost another part of himself. He felt consumed by the roar in his heart. It would be so easy to let himself go with this woman—to give himself up to her and make her his.

Reese tenderly caressed the hard line of his jaw. She felt shaken, and lightheaded. Certainly she’d been kissed before more times than she could count. But never before had she experienced the awesomeness of a simple kiss. Max had transported her to a place she’d never been and her body, on fire, was screaming for more of the sweet torture.

Maxwell inhaled deeply then spoke in one long breath. “I think you ought to be getting upstairs. We have a busy day tomorrow,” he added softly.

“Max, I…”

His dark eyes swirled, reflecting the raging storm that brewed in his spirit. But his voice masked the turmoil within. “It’s really late Reese. I’ll have a car pick you up at seven forty-five,” he continued, now all business.

She’d never felt so humiliated. But she’d never give him the satisfaction of seeing her break down. “You’re right. And I did want to get some writing done before I went to bed.” She turned away from him and flipped the lock on the door. “Good night, Max, and thank you for a lovely evening.”

Before he had a chance to respond, she was out of the car and pushing through the revolving doors of the hotel.

Maxwell pressed his head against the steering column. “You idiot,” he bellowed, slamming his fists against the dashboard.

Reese walked blindly through the lobby, propelled by instinct. Each step she took she fought down the tears that scorched her eyes. She would not cry, she vowed. The headache that had begun at the restaurant built to a crescendo.

By the time she reached her room, she was weak with the pain. Stumbling to the bathroom, she snatched her medication from the cabinet. Downing two tablets without benefit of water, she virtually crawled out of the bathroom to her bed.

Collapsing on top of the quilts, she squeezed her eyes shut against the torrent of pain, and then the nightmares bloomed with terrifying might.