Undressed by the Rebel: The Honourable Maverick

No. As he put his arms around this small, unwanted visitor and felt the firm bulge of her abdomen, which had been disguised by her baggy sweater, his heart sank even further.

Somehow, in the space of just a heartbeat or two, he’d offered protection to a woman who looked as though she was running from something. Or someone.

A very pregnant woman.

‘Max…’ The word was a warning. ‘What are you doing, man? She’s come to the wrong apartment, that’s all.’

‘No.’ Max held onto the body shaking with silent sobs and did his best to guide her towards the sofa. ‘Sarah Prescott was the previous tenant here. She took off to the States last week.’

‘What?’ Max felt a determined push against his chest that felt familiar. ‘No.’

Tears were scrubbed from her face and she gave a rather unladylike sniff. ‘She’s going on Friday. Tomorrow. That’s why I’m here. I’m going to go with her.’

‘She did go on Friday. Last Friday.’ Max sighed and let his gaze drop to the oversized sweater. ‘You really think they would have let you on an international flight? When are you due?’

Her mouth dropped open and he could see the wheels turning in her head. She realised he’d felt the shape of her body when he’d taken hold of her. A flush of colour stained pale cheeks but she said nothing.

Resentment at the intrusion into a private moment was long gone. Max could sense the spark of curiosity from the others now, albeit reluctantly, particularly on Jet’s part. But this was a damsel in distress. She needed help.

‘Come and sit down,’ Max suggested. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Ellie,’ she said, but didn’t move any closer to the sofa. ‘Ellie Peters.’

‘I’m Max. That’s Rick, who’s putting his helmet on the table over there, and this is Jet.’

That surprised her.

‘His real name is James,’ Max added. ‘But he’s always had a thing for flying and his hair’s really black, see?’

Ellie gave a slow nod as she flicked a cautious gaze towards the other men.

Rick was near the window now. ‘His hair’s only that colour ‘cause he dyes it,’ he said casually.

Jet’s snort told Rick he would pay for that comment later but Ellie’s lips twitched. Good. She was starting to relax. Maybe they could find out why it was she needed to find her absent friend so urgently, offer some advice to solve the problem and send her on her way. The others had to head away themselves very soon and they didn’t get together often enough to make sharing the last of this time a welcome prospect. No wonder Jet was looking so impatient.

‘Can I get you a drink?’ Max offered Ellie. His gaze dropped automatically to the bulge of her sweater. So obvious now he’d felt it. Curiously, he could still feel it. As part of that body shaking with sobs she’d tried so hard to stifle. A shape that seemed to be imprinted on his own body. She was eyeing the beer bottles on the table. ‘I mean…water or something?’

‘Hate to break up the party,’ Rick drawled, ‘but there’s a guy on the street out here who seems rather interested in this apartment.’

Ellie’s indrawn breath was a gasp. She slid sideways, making sure she wasn’t in view. Closer to the wall now, she kept moving and peeped around the edge of the window frame.

‘Oh…no…’ The word was a groan. ‘It’s Marcus. I thought I’d lost him at the airport.’

‘And who is Marcus?’ Max stepped swiftly to look out of the window but the street below was deserted apart from a taxi and its driver.

‘He’s…um…He was my…’ Ellie seemed to be finding it difficult to find the description she wanted. ‘I was in a relationship with him. Briefly. It’s been…hard to get away.’

The underlying message was unmistakable. Max tried to curb the slash of anger. ‘He’s stalking you?’

‘Ah…kind of, I guess.’

‘Where have you come from?’

‘Today? Wellington. I think he must have hired a private investigator who picked up on my air-ticket purchase. He must have flown down from Auckland to be at the airport by the time I arrived.’

‘Auckland…of course…’ Rick snapped his fingers. ‘Thought the little weasel looked vaguely familiar.’

Everybody’s head swung in Rick’s direction. Max and Ellie spoke together.

‘You know him?’

‘Marcus Jones. Orthopaedic surgeon, yes?’

‘Y-yes,’ Ellie stammered, looking bewildered.

Rick addressed the others. ‘Had a little run-in with him when I was working in Auckland Central a few years back.’ The huff of expelled breath was not complimentary. ‘Guy with a nasty spinal tumour. I was keen to try a new approach. Risky but perfectly doable. Would have left him neurologically intact.’

The nod from Max and Jet accepted that Rick’s judgement would have been correct.

‘The weasel is persuasive. He talked the patient and his family into going with the standard protocol. Poor guy ended up quadriplegic and on a home ventilator. Probably dead by now.’

Max caught Jet’s raised eyebrow and nodded. ‘He follows the rules.’

‘Hell, he thinks he can make the rules,’ Rick said.

‘Does he, now?’ Max injected enough of an ominous tone into his query to earn approving glances from the other men. A glance at Ellie’s wide eyes revealed that she had no clue what the unspoken conversation going on here was about but it certainly wasn’t making her feel any more secure.

Should he take the time to tell her that one of the things that welded the three of them together was the shared conviction that sometimes some of the rules had to be broken? That they were all people who had no hesitation in doing exactly that if they considered it to be necessary?

He didn’t have the time. The rap on his door was far more demanding than Ellie’s knock had been.

‘Open the door.’ The owner of the voice was used to being in control. ‘I know you’re in there, Eleanor.’

Jet went to open the door.

‘No,’ Ellie breathed. ‘Please…’

Max and Rick moved to stand on either side of Ellie.

Max tilted his head. ‘He doesn’t sound like he’s going to go away without a little encouragement. You’re safe here, remember?’

‘Mmm.’ The sound was hesitant but hopeful. It tugged at something deep inside Max.

‘You’d like him to go away, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘For good?’