Intimate Betrayal

“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.