New Year Kisses: His Cinderella Mistress

Although why on earth he had compounded that by telling her about his mother, he had no idea!

He never talked about his mother’s desertion. Never told anyone of the effect it had had on him. It simply wasn’t good enough to claim he had merely been returning January’s confidence about her own mother. Her mother had died, for goodness’ sake, not walked out on her!

He had to get away from here. Had to go. Now!

But before he could even stand up to leave the outside door opened and May walked in, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw him sitting comfortably ensconced at the kitchen table. Although she recovered well, he thought, that obvious look of surprise turning into a polite smile of enquiry.

‘January is upstairs putting on dry socks,’ he told her dryly.

Dark brows rose over mocking green eyes. ‘What did she do with the last pair?’ May drawled, taking off her jacket to hang it on the back of the kitchen door.

‘Fell in a snowdrift,’ Max supplied wryly.

‘Ah,’ May nodded, obviously not in the least surprised by the explanation. ‘Can I get you another cup of coffee, or are you okay?’ she offered as she boiled up some water for her own hot drink.

‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Max dismissed. ‘How did your check-up go?’

May turned to him with a puzzled frown. ‘Sorry?’

‘January said you were at the dentist,’ he explained.

‘Ah.’ May nodded. ‘It was fine,’ she added dismissively, busying herself making her cup of coffee.

Max’s gaze narrowed shrewdly as he continued to watch her. He hadn’t missed May’s complete puzzlement at his mention of a check-up, or the fact that her gaze hadn’t quite met his when she’d answered him; if May Calendar had been to the dentist then his name wasn’t Maxim Patrick Golding!

Which begged the question, where had May really been? And why had she lied to January about it?

Not that it was really any of his business, but—

‘May!’ January greeted more than a little self-consciously as she came back into the kitchen and found her sister there. ‘How did—?’

‘We’ve already done the dentist bit,’ Max cut in derisively. ‘Your sister’s teeth are as healthy as yours,’ he added huskily, knowing as he saw January’s confused blush that his barb had hit home, that she remembered as well as he did the nip she had given him on the shoulder on Sunday evening with those healthy teeth, as he’d kissed and caressed her breasts.

What January couldn’t know was that he still had a bruise on his shoulder as proof of those healthy teeth!

The blush deepened in January’s cheeks even as she shot him a warning look.

Ah, so the protective May still didn’t know what had happened between January and himself on Sunday evening!

Not that he was exactly proud of himself for the way things had got so out of hand that evening. Or the way he had deliberately made light of it to January afterwards…!

Because, no matter what he might have said to her, he hadn’t slept at all on Sunday night. Last night either, for that matter. Instead he had lain awake both those nights arguing with himself. Half of him had wanted to tell January that he hadn’t meant any of the hurtful things he had said to her, that it had been pure defence on his part. But the other half of him knew that he would be admitting so much more than that if he were to tell her those things. And that he simply couldn’t—wouldn’t!—do.

The television announcement this morning about yet another attack had been his undoing, though; the thought that it might be January lying in that hospital bed, battered and bruised, had been enough to throw him into a panic.

Not that coming to the farm had been his first instinct. No, he had telephoned the police first, who had refused to give out any information whatsoever about the attack, least of all the victim’s name. The hospital had been no more forthcoming, either. Leaving him no choice—unless he wanted to just sit and go quietly out of his mind with worry!—but to come to the farm.

But now that he was here, could see for himself that January was unharmed, he really had no idea what he was still doing here.

Or how to make a dignified exit!

‘I should be going—’

‘Don’t feel you have to leave on my account,’ May drawled as she leant back against the Aga, coffee mug in her hand as she looked across at him with mocking green eyes.

His mouth tightened. ‘I’m sure I’ve kept you both from your work enough for one day,’ he insisted hardly.

‘It can wait.’ May shrugged. ‘No matter how hard or how long you work on a farm, Max, there’s always more to be done,’ she added ruefully.

He frowned. ‘In that case—’

‘That doesn’t mean we’re interested in selling it,’ January told him harshly.

Max looked across at her calmly. ‘I was actually going to say, why don’t you get someone in to help you if there’s so much to do?’

‘Good question,’ May derided.

‘It isn’t good at all!’ January corrected snappily. ‘There’s the little problem of paying someone to help.’ She turned on Max sharply. ‘Something, it must be obvious even to you, that we aren’t in a position to do.’

‘January…’ May rebuked softly. ‘Max was only asking,’ she reasoned gently before turning to give Max a rueful smile. ‘We did have some help last year after—after our father died,’ she explained huskily. ‘It didn’t work out.’ She shrugged.

He couldn’t help noticing that January looked rather pale now, May’s gaze once again evasive, making him wonder in what way it hadn’t worked out.

He shrugged. ‘It was just a thought.’

‘A totally impractical one,’ January snapped scornfully. ‘Although that must be rather good for you to hear,’ she continued scathingly. ‘After all, it would suit your plans perfectly if we were forced into selling the farm because we simply couldn’t manage it any more!’

‘January—’

‘Don’t be fooled by him for a minute, May,’ January harshly interrupted her sister’s reasoning tone. ‘Max—and the Marshall Corporation—would like nothing better than for us to fall flat on our faces! Well, dream on, Max!’ she told him forcefully. ‘You will never get your mercenary hands on our farm! Now, if you’ll excuse me,’ she added hardly, grabbing her coat from the back of one of the chairs. ‘You can stay and talk to him if you want to, May, but I have work to do!’

The room seemed to reverberate as she slammed the door behind her, May’s wince matching Max’s as he glanced across at her ruefully.

‘What did you do to upset her this time?’ May mused with a grimace.

‘Do I need to “do” anything in order to upset January?’ he came back wryly.

‘Probably not,’ May sighed.

‘That’s what I thought.’ He nodded, his gaze narrowing. ‘What was his name?’ he rasped.

May looked at him undecidedly for several long seconds, and then she gave a rueful shrug. ‘Ben,’ she supplied economically.

His admiration for this woman seemed to grow by the minute. She had obviously taken over the role of mother to her two younger sisters while only aged five or six, still a baby herself, in fact, was possessed of a lively intelligence, and her beauty was of the inner as well as outer kind.

‘Thank you.’ He gave an acknowledging inclination of his head.

May frowned. ‘For what?’