Читать книгу Baring It All - Rebecca Hunter - Страница 9

IF THERE WAS anything Max Jensen hated more than thinking with his schlong, it was doing it in front of an audience. Natasha was late coming home, and instead of focusing on her sister, Alya, who happened to be Max’s assignment, all he could think about was Natasha and what kind of trouble she was getting herself into. Alya’s curvy younger sibling was a powerful distraction...but that wasn’t the only reason his mind kept wandering back to her. Max was in security, for fuck’s sake. Of course he was worried when she didn’t show up on time. He just also happened to want to get in her pants.

Max glanced at his watch, then back at his client. “Shouldn’t Natasha be home by now?”

Alya looked up from the papers she was reading and shrugged. “She probably walked.”

Alone? It was none of his business. His business was laid out on the table in front of him—going over the schedule for Alya’s weekend photoshoot on the Great Barrier Reef. He’d been the fashion model’s bodyguard for years now and had gotten to know both sisters in the process.

“It’s getting dark,” he said, keeping his voice businesslike, as if he was talking about any other client. “And you said she sounded upset.”

Alya leaned back in her chair and met his gaze. “If she doesn’t come home soon, I’ll call.”

She set down her pen, and it rolled across the sleek table, echoing in the silence of the enormous kitchen of her downtown Sydney apartment. She was eyeing Max carefully, like she had read into his question and was coming to her own conclusions, so he looked right back. He had mastered this easygoing I-have-nothing-to-hide expression back in high school after a few years of practice on his hard-edged father.

Preparing me for life, my ass. Sure, Max had learned to dodge trouble—he even got paid to use those skills with the elite private security firm Blackmore Inc. But nothing about Max’s life was what his father had intended.

He and Alya exchanged another silent moment, and then she gave a little nod.

“Natasha and Wayne were supposed to be celebrating her new research grant. All she said was that he wasn’t quite as positive about it as she had hoped.” Alya rolled her eyes and added, “Probably because she’ll have less time for helping with his articles.”

Natasha’s boyfriend was a real wanker. He was much older than she was and self-important as hell. Max had crossed paths with him once in this very kitchen, and the asshole had droned on like the future of the world depended on his research. Natasha couldn’t be serious about this guy, could she?

“She didn’t sound happy on the phone?” he asked.

Alya shook her head and returned to the documents, and Max’s shoulders came down a bit. Maybe they broke up. Goddamn, he hoped so. It was selfish, and under any other circumstances, hearing that Natasha was upset would be a punch in the gut. But his mind was moving in a totally different direction. Yeah, thinking with your schlong. He went right back to that night a few months ago when they had come so, so close to stepping over the line.

Since then Max had been looking for a chance to test the sexual buzz between them. Before it was too late. Because too late would be coming soon—specifically, at the end of next week, when his father would announce that he was stepping down as head of the Jensen Family Foundation and Max would become president. So, in addition to the photographers who followed him onto the beaches when he surfed or when he took a woman to dinner, Max’s life would also include planned public appearances and board meetings. It was a path he had worked to avoid. And the last thing he wanted to think about tonight.

Thinking about quirky, witty, oh-so-hot Natasha Petrova was a hell of a lot more fun. She was the only woman he knew who could use convoluted biology theories about the rules of attraction to shut him down. Of course, it only made him want her more, though he didn’t understand a damn word half the time. Maybe it was because he had just scraped by in biology class. More likely it was because he was concentrating on her lips. Luscious red lips. Which, all things considered, was better than staring at her breasts.

Over the years, he’d thrown dozens of propositions her way, each one wilder than the last, just to hear her response. Just to see her eyes light up as she laughed. Okay, also on the off chance that she’d forget about Max’s family’s name and his...reputation...and say yes to a little fun.

Max met Alya’s gaze again and raised his eyebrows, daring her to speak her suspicions aloud. He wouldn’t be surprised if Alya had caught on to his semi-obsession with her sister, but he still couldn’t get a read on what Alya thought about it.

His client gave nothing away. Instead, she gathered the papers on the table in front of her and took one more glance at their schedule. “With all these precautions, you’d think I was royalty. But it’s a relief.” She gave him a quick smile. “Stewart should be here soon.” Alya’s boyfriend was picking her up to go back to his place for the night, which meant Max should probably head out...

Keys rattled in the front hall of the apartment as the door creaked open and slammed shut.

“Natasha?” Alya called.

“Yep, it’s me.” Natasha’s voice echoed down the hall.

“Did Wayne properly celebrate your fabulousness at dinner?”

Max froze. He was a selfish enough bastard to hope the answer was no.

“Not even close,” she called.

Max blew out a breath. She didn’t sound upset. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part.

Natasha’s keys clanged on the front hall table, and her shoes thumped to the floor, one by one. “Instead, he suggested we see other people. I’m officially free to have a little fun. His words.”

Alya choked on her water, midsip. “What?”

Holy shit.

A better man would make himself known before Natasha spilled any more of the intimate details about her evening. But there was no way in hell Max was taking the high road here.

Natasha’s footsteps clunked down the hall.

“We’re taking a break. So I can have all the time I need for my career.” The last sentence was filled with sarcasm.

The bathroom door closed. Alya stared at the empty doorway to the hall, her attention completely focused on her sister. All the better if she forgot about Max. The toilet flushed, and Natasha’s footsteps came closer.

“This all started when I tried to wake him up with a blow—”

Natasha rounded the corner and froze, her eyes fixed on Max. Oh, fuck, she looked hot. But then again, she always did. The dress was white, classy, and it didn’t show cleavage, but there was no hiding those natural wonders. Her black-rimmed glasses gave her a sexy librarian vibe, a visual he’d come back to later that night.

Natasha watched him from the doorway. Max kept his expression neutral while searching her face for lingering hurt or sadness. He couldn’t find any traces. Just a hint of challenge. Good. If she’d come home in tears, Wayne might have needed a late-night talking-to. The thought was a mild surprise. As it turned out, even in this situation Max couldn’t stand the idea of her getting hurt.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me Max was here?” Natasha muttered to her sister, her eyes still fixed on him.

Alya wrinkled her brow. “Sorry. I was stuck on what you were saying.”

Natasha stared at Max for another beat. Then she let out a sigh. “I suppose I’ll care more about this tomorrow, but right now, I don’t give a shit. Everyone is welcome to hear about my fabulous evening.”

Natasha brushed long, blond wisps of hair off her face and plopped down into the chair next to Max. She gave him another quick glance, as if she was still registering his presence. Her eyes lingered on his biceps for an extra beat before she turned to her sister. He hid a smile behind his hand. A nice guy would stand up and excuse himself, leaving the two sisters alone for a private conversation. Too bad he wasn’t that guy. If Natasha wasn’t kicking him out, he was staying for the rest of the show.

Alya was still shaking her head. “You okay?”

“I can’t believe this happened again. I thought Wayne would understand, that with his own crazy schedule, he’d respect my work.” Natasha gave a huff of frustration. “Dinner a few times a week, sex, support for each other’s work and an occasional holiday—is that too much to ask? Why does dating always lead to other crap expectations?”

Alya snorted. “He didn’t ask you to pick up his dry cleaning again, did he?”

Natasha shook her head. “I think I made my answer clear the last time he asked. Now it’s his department’s barbeque. But, seriously, why is he asking me to make a plate for it?” She turned to Max and pointed her finger at him. “And Wayne already mansplained all the ways medical research is different from other biology research, why his job is so much more important.”

“You think I’d talk down your work?” he asked with an almost straight face. “Not a chance in hell.”

Her complete absorption with saving the marine world was an appeal, not a drawback. Instead, Max had been thinking about the last time he’d witnessed one of her breakups. She’d been devastated. So if she wanted to direct some of her manfrustration at him, that was fine. Anything that steered her away from hurt.

“Maybe I should lower my standards. Just sex. No relationship at all.” Natasha massaged her temples. “I think I’m getting a headache.”

Max’s rational brain stuttered to a stop at the words just sex, starting him down that thinking-with-his-dick road, which was paved with justifications.

She just wants sex. Hey—that’s what I want, too.

Yeah, that wasn’t a particularly nuanced or eloquent path.

Alya’s heels clicked on the tile as she crossed the kitchen floor to the white cupboards. She grabbed a glass and filled it with water, dropped in a Berocca tablet, then set it in front of Natasha. All three of them watched it fizz.

“You’re going to need this.” Alya tapped the glass. “I don’t get it. He actually took you to a beautiful restaurant with water views just to dump you?”

“Technically, I broke up with him, but that was after he suggested a more ‘open’ relationship. Oh, and he also backed out of the Hawaii trip. Wayne said the hospital was short-staffed so it was better for him not to take a holiday right now. And since I’ll be putting in long hours soon, he didn’t want to ‘hold me back.’ Nice of him, right?” Natasha blew more strands of hair out of her face and took a gulp from the glass. “This was before the waitress even stopped by. Of course, that helped me decide on my order. The caviar is pretty damn expensive, as Wayne now knows.”

Max smiled a little. Natasha definitely sounded more frustrated than sad about the situation, and she still had her sense of humor. All good signs.

“I still don’t get it. You and Wayne have always had tight schedules. What changed?” asked Alya.

Natasha glanced at Max, a flush creeping up her neck. She eyed him. “Promise not to bring this up after tonight?”

“I’ll do whatever makes you happy, sweetheart,” he said, slowing on whatever.

His words had the effect he was hoping for. Her eyes widened, and the flush racing to her cheeks deepened. She usually tried to hide it a little better. That forbidden surge of attraction. Except now it wasn’t forbidden. She was single.

But he really meant it, and not just sexually. He had tried to stay away, despite the tsunami of hot tension that hit every time he found himself alone with Natasha, because he came with something Natasha despised: media scrutiny. In his case, it mostly took the form of speculations about his sex life and judgments about his general morality. And when he took the position his father had groomed him for next week, the attention would step up. His father’s coverage had gotten personal at some point, at the expense of his mother. When Max took his place at the head of the Jensen Family Foundation, he had no doubt Natasha would steer as far away from him as she could.

Alya cleared her throat. “You were saying?”

Natasha was watching him, her lips parted a little, but she snapped her mouth shut at her sister’s voice. “Right. The reason for the time apart.” She drummed her fingers on the table and glanced over at Max. “Since you’re here, and you’re a guy—with a dick, I’m assuming—I want your opinion on something.”

Max wrinkled his brow. “My opinion on Wayne?”

“Sort of.”

Max frowned. He had met enough of the Waynes of the world to know they’d never take the time to make sure Natasha was happy. Still, she’d clearly had a rough evening, so maybe it was time to soften his assessment a little? Nah.

His opinion of Wayne could be summed up in two words: pretentious asshole. The handful of times they’d met in person, Wayne had found a way to mention his super-important medical degree and how he was irreplaceable. Max had resisted a sarcastic retort about his own days at Princeton for Natasha’s sake. And because the douche probably wouldn’t have recognized sarcasm if it bit him in the crotch.

Natasha took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the question. What are some of the reasons you might not be interested in...sex with a girlfriend? And then you set her free for a bit.”

Whoa. Not what he was expecting. And the thing that came to mind immediately would hurt. It was exactly what she didn’t want to hear right now, so he searched for something that might make her feel better, instead.

“Um, maybe if you have surgery on your love stick, and it’s in recovery?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Or maybe you’re doing some experiment with getting your girlfriend super horny before talking her into a sexy scenario involving—”

“Stop,” said Natasha, putting her hand up to cut him off. “Wrong person to ask. Alya?”

Alya furrowed her brow. “You want me to say it?”

Natasha nodded.

“Okay. He wants to shag other women,” said Alya softly.

Natasha glanced at Max for confirmation, but he said nothing.

Her mouth tugged down at the corners. “You were thinking it, too, weren’t you?”

That had been his first guess, followed by the possibility that Wayne was gay. There was no way to give her an honest answer without hurting her.

“What reason did he give?” asked Max.

Natasha shrugged. “Too tired. Too busy. And he really is tired and busy.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “What kind of blow job can you be too tired for? I’m curious.”

Her face flushed a deep red. “You heard that?”

“I heard it, but I’m having trouble understanding it.”

Natasha smiled a little, but it faded quickly. She bit her lip. Had Wayne, the self-important wanker, made her feel like she had done something wrong? Hell no.

“And he suggested you take some time off to have sex with other guys?” asked Alya.

“He didn’t say those words exactly, but he implied it.”

“Did he want you to report back to him?” asked Max. “Is this a kink thing?”

Both Natasha and Alya burst into laughter.

“I’m pretty sure Wayne is kink-free,” Natasha said with a snort. “He doesn’t seem to be into sex much at all.”

What the hell kind of man wasn’t into sex? A list of all the things he’d be into with Natasha came to Max’s mind, but it definitely wasn’t for her sister’s ears.

Natasha’s expression grew serious. And a little sad. Damn. She took a couple of gulps of fizzy water and glanced at Max as she set down the glass. “I’m really going to regret telling you all this tomorrow, aren’t I?”

He gave her a soft smile. “I’ll be sure to use it against you.”

Natasha met his gaze and smiled back, just a little at first, but then her lips curved up into a full smile. Goddamn. After three years of watching these dickheads come in and out of her life, she deserved so much better than this. A crease had formed on Alya’s brow, and Max was almost sure she was searching for a way to brighten up her sister’s disastrous evening.

Then Alya sat up in her chair. “Hey, this means you can come to Green Island with me now.”

Natasha’s gaze flitted away from his, and a new flush rushed to her cheeks.

“What about Hawaii?” she asked her sister.

“Is going to Hawaii alone really better than a tropical island with your sister?” Alya flashed Natasha a photo spread–ready grin.

Max’s heart pumped faster as he watched this exchange. Natasha on Green Island with them this weekend? Hell, yeah.

“But I had some potential field sites to check out,” Natasha protested.

Alya waved her off. “Don’t angelfish also live on the Great Barrier Reef? I’ll pay for your plane ticket, and my room at the resort has a king-sized bed.”

“I don’t know,” mumbled Natasha, but she was smiling a little now.

“Come on, Nat,” said Alya. “Don’t go on vacation by yourself right after a breakup. Besides, you know I’d feel a lot better if you were there with me.”

Max raised his eyebrows at Alya, and she frowned at him and shook her head. Was Alya trying to guilt her sister into coming based on her own problems with men? If so, the tactic was effective. Natasha’s brow crinkled up, and she sighed.

“I’ve never been to Green Island,” she said slowly. “It’s epaulette shark territory.”

Alya jumped out of her chair. “That’s a yes?”

“I guess so...” Natasha twisted her hair around a finger.

Alya tapped the schedule for the Tropical Bliss magazine shoot before her sister could protest further. “We’re doing an early morning shoot and an evening shoot both days, when the tourists aren’t flooding the island. So when the rest of us are working, you’ll get the reef to yourself for a few hours. Other than that, I’ll have time off. The whole trip should be fun.”

Alya typed something into her phone.

“I’m going to get you booked right now, on my way to Stewart’s, before you can change your mind,” she said then smiled up at Natasha. “He’ll be here in a minute. It’s your last chance to back out.”

Natasha looked from Alya to Max. She bit her lip. “Okay, I’m in.”

Alya’s phone dinged, and she grabbed it and waved. “You won’t be sorry, Natasha. And can you see Max out?”