Hot Nights with the...Australian: The Master Player / Overtime in the Boss's Bed / The Billionaire Boss's Innocent Bride

‘Please …’ She eagerly held out her arms and the adorable pup was quickly bundled into them. ‘I wasn’t ever allowed to have a pet. I’ll love him to death, Max. Thank you so, so much!’

She hugged the squirming little body up against her shoulder and laughed as she felt her neck being licked.

‘Got everything he needs here,’ Eric said. ‘Sleeping basket, food, bowls for water and food, collar and leash, dog shampoo … the whole works. Okay if I bring it in and show you everything?’

‘Yes, please do.’

She stepped back inside to give him room to enter, expecting Max to follow. But he didn’t. He stood in the doorway for a few moments, watching her petting the puppy, the sheer magnetism of the man making her pulse race and trapping her breath in her chest, and when he smiled directly at her, her mind felt positively giddy.

‘Seeing your pleasure is my reward,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll leave you to it, Chloe.’

He didn’t wait for her to reply, striding away before she could find breath enough to speak. She told herself she had already thanked him anyway, but his departure and his wonderfully thoughtful gift left her feeling even more ashamed of letting her mother tarnish the image of him fighting her dragons.

She lifted the pup down from her shoulder to look into the eyes that had appealed to Max in the pet shop, asking to be loved. She saw the same expression in them and smiled. ‘This is your home. With me,’ she promised him.

And in that sweet moment of bonding with the beautiful little dog, she felt a huge welling of love for the man who had given her so much of what she’d needed, without demanding any more of her than fulfilling her contract with him as best she could.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE rest of the working week passed without any upsetting incident. Chloe felt nervous about doing another shopping trip but she refused to be deterred from it, telling herself that would mean her mother was still dominating her life. She stocked up on her favourite foods and settled happily in the children’s house each night, loving the company of her darling little dog. She saw nothing of Max, which made her even more comfortable with the situation, feeling it proved her mother was totally wrong about his motives for taking her under his protective wing.

Saturday was a glorious day, tempting her outside as soon as she’d done her washing and tidied the house. It was great fun taking her dog for a frolicking walk down to the lower terrace. He had to stop and sniff at everything, yapped wildly at finding a frog, and generally leapt around with the sheer joy of living. Chloe laughed at his antics, vastly amused when he’d tumble over, then quickly stand on stiff legs, looking around suspiciously as though to ask, ‘What did that to me?’ before bounding off again.

She ended up rolling on the grass with him, much to his dancing excitement, and that was how Max came upon them on his way to the boatshed.

‘Hi, there!’ he called, startling Chloe into sitting bolt upright, which caused him to hastily add, ‘Don’t get up. It’s good to see you looking so relaxed and I’m just passing by. It’s such a perfect morning, I thought I’d take the catamaran out on the harbour.’

Like herself, he was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and once again Chloe was struck by his awesome physique, her heart skittering, flutters in her stomach. He crouched down, his hands outstretched in open welcome as the puppy bounced across the grass to sniff him.

‘Hi, little fella.’ One hand was licked and Max used the other to scratch behind the dog’s ear, smiling at Chloe as he did so. ‘What did you call him?’

‘Luther.’

‘Luther,’ he repeated in surprise, raising a quizzical eyebrow. ‘That’s a serious name for a playful pup.’

‘It has dignity. He’s only ever going to be little but he thinks he has dignity and I’m giving it to him.’

‘Right!’ Max grinned, highly amused by the idea. ‘I can see that’s important.’

‘And he also reminded me of Martin Luther King.’

Both eyebrows shot up this time and Chloe grinned back at him as she explained, ‘He’s black and white and Martin Luther King fought for desegregation, wanting to bring blacks and whites together.’

‘Ah! You’ve clearly given it a lot of thought.’

‘A name deserves a lot of thought. You’re loaded with it all your life.’ She grimaced. ‘I’ve always hated mine.’

He looked slightly bemused by this and asked, ‘Why?’

She shook her head, not wanting to tell him it was how her mother made such a harsh gutteral sound of it when she was angry. ‘I just don’t like it.’

‘You could have it changed,’ he advised her.

She shrugged. ‘Too late for that. It’s a career name now.’

‘It’s never too late to make changes,’ he said seriously, straightening up and strolling towards her, Luther prancing around his feet. ‘What name would you prefer for yourself?’ he asked curiously.

‘Maria.’ It was soft and had a loving sound to it. ‘Ever since I saw the musical West Side Story, I’ve wished it was mine, though I guess it wouldn’t go so well with Rollins. Not as distinctive as Chloe.’

‘Maria …’ he repeated whimsically.

‘And I ended up marrying a Tony,’ she said with bitter irony. ‘Just goes to show how dreams can lead you astray.’

‘Well, you’ve woken up from that dream now, and Luther will give you more real devotion than your husband did.’ He dropped down on his haunches to pet the pup again. ‘Won’t you, little fella?’

He was right about that. Nothing about Tony’s devotion had been real. But that was behind her now, no point in dwelling on it. She had to look ahead. If she ever married again, she would make sure it was to a man of substance like …

Her gaze fastened on Max, who sprawled back on the grass, laughingly pretending that Luther had knocked him over. The pup leapt onto his chest and madly licked his chin. ‘Save me! Call him off!’ Max appealed to Chloe.

‘Luther, come here!’ she said firmly, and the little dog raced over to her, tail wagging like a windmill. She cuddled him on her lap, settling him down, eyeing Max with amusement as he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. ‘I don’t think you needed to be rescued from a miniature fox terrier.’

His dark eyes twinkled teasingly. ‘He was getting a taste for me. He might have gobbled me up.’

She laughed.

He smiled, and this close to her, his smile set off a fountain of buzzing female hormones inside Chloe. He was so attractive, for one wild moment, she fiercely envied Shannah Lian’s intimate relationship with him, wishing she could experience him as a lover. Her mind instantly clamped down on the shockingly wayward thought and sought some normal distraction from it.

‘Did you have a dog when you were a boy, Max?’

The smile turned into a sardonic grimace as he shook his head. ‘The circumstances I lived in then … it wouldn’t have been fair on a dog.’

Not fair on him, either, she thought. A drug-addicted mother would not have given him a stable life.

‘I had a job on Sunday mornings for a while,’ he said reminiscently. ‘Pulling a barrow of newspapers around the neighbourhood, blowing a whistle for people to come out and buy. Their dogs always came out and I made friends with them. They’d follow me down the street until their owners called them back. I always enjoyed doing that paper run.’

‘You’ve come a long way since then,’ Chloe murmured.

‘Yes. And still too much on the move to acquire a dog.’

Or a wife.

She wondered if those early years with his mother had taught him not to get attached to anyone or anything, to count only on himself. But this place had called to him.

‘You have a home now,’ she said.

‘A home to come home to. I travel a lot, Chloe.’

‘Do you ever get tired of it … the travelling?’ she asked curiously.