Intimate Betrayal

Reese would not be dissuaded. “I haven’t seen anything of the city since I arrived,” she hedged. “Why don’t you be the gentleman I know you can be and take me out? Give me the twenty-five-cent tour before we leave for California.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You can be a gentleman, can’t you?” she taunted, bracing her hips with her fists in a defiant stance. “You have to eat, so why do it alone?”

“What makes you think I’ll be eating alone?”

Her mouth curved up in a grin. “Writer’s instinct?” Her cocked eyebrow punctuated her point.

Maxwell pushed away from his desk and stood up. “I think you need to sharpen up on your writer’s instinct, Ms. Delaware.” He paused then looked at her from beneath dark curly lashes. “But I wouldn’t want you to go back to Chicago believing all the negative things you’ve heard about New Yorkers.”

She watched him as he crossed the room and retrieved his jacket from the rack. A tiny tingle of anticipation rippled in her stomach. This is just the beginning, Mr. Knight, she mused. I’ll get on the other side of that wall no matter what it takes. And you’re gonna have a good time while I’m getting there.

Chapter 3

“Do you come here often?” Reese asked, taking a bite from a succulent piece of batter-dipped fried chicken.

“No. Actually, this is the first time. But I’ve heard a lot of the staff talk about Sylvia’s. They’ve always had good things to say about the food.”

“Believe me, it’s almost good enough to have me make the trip from Chicago.” She grinned. “The atmosphere is great. It’s so cozy and personal.”

“Hmm.”

Reese took a sip of her chardonnay. “Where do you go? I mean—when you go out…on a date?”

“Getting a bit personal, aren’t we?”

She gave him that slow, Mona Lisa smile that made his mouth water. “It’s after hours, Boss Man,” she teased. “Time to lighten up and ‘Let It Flow,’ as Toni Braxton would say.”

Maxwell flashed her a look as cool as the chinks of ice that floated in his glass. He leaned across the table, his voice descending to an intimate low. “Is that right, Ms. Delaware?”

A rush of heat surged through her body. Her heart began to race. She lifted the crystal flute to her lips. Her eyebrows arched. “Very right, Mr. Knight.”

“Will there be anything else, folks?” the waitress asked, successfully breaking their tenuous connection.

Maxwell’s steamy stare never left Reese’s face when he asked, “Would you like something else?”

“What I want I can’t get here,” she said, the seductive timbre of her voice winding its way through his heated bloodstream.

“No. Thank you. You can bring the check,” he finally responded off-handedly.

His dark, haunting eyes glided over her smooth features of milk chocolate, scorching her from the inside out. “Do you have any idea what you’re toying with?”

Slowly her tongue darted out and she licked her lips. “Why don’t you tell me.”

The corner of his mouth curled upward. “I’m not an easy man. I have no intention of building a relationship. I’m not looking for one, and I’m not interested in anyone that is. Still interested?”

“You only think you’re not interested.” She lifted the glass to her dampened lips and smiled. “Your problem is, you haven’t found the right woman.”

“And who might that woman be?”

“That’s for you to discover.”

Maxwell eased up out of his seat and came around behind Reese, helping her to her feet. Their bodies brushed. Maxwell inhaled from between clenched teeth when he felt the slight shiver run through her.

“When you play with fire, Ms. Delaware, you’re liable to get burned.”

She turned to face him and found herself breast to chest, belly to belly. To the casual observer, they appeared to be stepping into a mating dance, they were so close. Heat wafted around them.

“Let the games being,” she breathed on a husky laugh.

The ride back downtown from 128th Street in Harlem was conducted in a soothing silence, save for the smooth sounds of the local jazz station, pumping from the speakers of the gray Infiniti Q24.

Maxwell drove with the sunroof open, letting the cool summer’s night air lower his body temperature. From the corner of his eye, he looked at Reese. His large hands tightened around the wheel.

She was totally relaxed. Her head was arched slightly back against the headrest, exposing her long, chocolate neck. Her amber eyes were closed, giving her an illusion of innocence. He could almost laugh at that thought. A lot of things could be associated with Reese Delaware, but innocence was not one of them. She exuded a near lethal dose of sexuality every time she breathed. He couldn’t remember being so aware of a woman before.

He felt his resistance to her slowly peel away. But he couldn’t let that happen. Reese was interested in one thing and one thing alone—getting her story, and she’d do whatever was necessary to get it. Even sleep with him? The sudden thought rattled him. He’d been used enough to further people’s careers. He’d be damned if he’d be an easy mark again.

Maxwell turned away and poured all of his attention into getting her back to her hotel and out of his car. He continued down Seventh Avenue, tunneling all of his thoughts on the stop-and-go traffic. He was so absorbed that at first he believed the soft moans he heard were coming from the radio, until they rose to a strangled cry.

Checking traffic, he veered sharply to his right, and pulled over at the first available space. Reese was thrashing her head back and forth and moaning as if she were in extreme agony.

“Oh, dear God, make it stop,” she groaned. “Make it stop.”

“Reese.” His voice came to her like a gentle breeze in the midst of a storm. He reached out and touched her face. Her eyes flew open. Slowly she began to focus.

“It’s your head again, isn’t it?”

She could barely speak, but to nod in response would set off the jackhammers in her head again. “Yes. I…need to…take something…the pain. It’s in my room.”

“Shh. Don’t try to talk. We’ll be there in a few minutes. Just try to relax.”

Maxwell eased the car away from the curb and jetted into the flow of traffic at the first break. He maneuvered around cars, trucks, buses and yellow cabs, all the while uttering soothing words of comfort. His deep hypnotic voice acted as a balm to her throbbing head.

“As soon as I get you inside, we’ll take care of that pain. Breathe deeply in through your nose, and out through your mouth. The added pull of oxygen will help.” He glanced in her direction, pleased to see that she was following his instructions. “Do you swim?”

“As…often as I can,” she answered weakly, too exhausted to worry about where that question had come from.

“The Bahamas have some of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever seen,” he said in a slow, melodic tone. “The water is crystal clear. You can almost see the bottom. The waves are so gentle, they’re like a warm caress.”

Reese succumbed to the melody of his voice, allowing her mind and body to become infused with the tranquil images he’d created.

Maxwell watched her slowly begin to relax. The tension lines between her brow began to ease just as they pulled up to the hotel.

Miraculously, Maxwell found a parking space and came around to help her out. He slipped his arm around her waist and she instinctively leaned into him, letting him bear her weight.

Before they’d taken two steps, Maxwell swept her up into his arms and pushed through the revolving door. Without protest, Reese curled against him, savoring the comfort of his strength, the power of his nearness. She rested her head on his shoulder.