Who Gets To Marry Max?. Neesa Hart

      “I thought so, too.” He cast a swift glance at the door. “For a long time, I thought so. But I changed my mind.”

      “If that gets out,” she managed to quip, “it could cause the value of the dollar to plunge in the foreign currency markets.”

      His soft chuckle rumbled along her nerve endings. “You have an overinflated sense of my importance, I assure you.”

      “As long as we’re laying our cards on the table, is this a good time for me to tell you that you scare me to death?”

      His eyebrows rose. “I’d never hurt you, Sidney.”

      “I know that. That’s not what I mean.”

      “Explain it to me.”

      She searched for words. “I guess—I don’t want to feel like another corporate takeover.”

      He blinked. “Excuse me?”

      She pulled her hand from his. “It’s hard to explain. After Carter—after my divorce—I swore I’d never do that to myself again.”

      “Are you comparing me to your ex-husband?” His tone had turned flat—and sounded somehow more dangerous.

      “No.” She shook her head. “No, you’re nothing like Carter. He was weak and selfish, and I was a fool to marry him.”

      “Sidney—”

      “Don’t say it,” she said with a slight smile. “There’s no point in arguing with me. What kind of idiot gets involved with a jerk like that?”

      “It wasn’t your fault.”

      She inwardly cringed. He could never understand the flood of self-condemnation that had engulfed her when her marriage dissolved. Max didn’t make colossal mistakes. It was beyond his scope of experience. “Whatever. The point is, I had a really hard time putting myself back together after he—after it was over.”

      “I know.” His gray eyes studied her. “Philip told me.”

      “He tells you a lot, doesn’t he?”

      “He loves you.”

      “I know he does.” She managed a slight smile. “He loves you, too.”

      With incredibly gentle fingers, Max tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Sidney, no more stalling.” He seated himself on the edge of his desk. “Talk to me.”

      “I’m afraid of what might happen to me if I get involved with you,” she admitted.

      “I’ll take care of you.”

      “Oh, Max. Don’t you see? I don’t want you to take care of me. I’ve just started to feel like I’m pretty good at taking care of myself. I’m not ready to turn the job over to someone else.”

      That made him frown. “I didn’t mean—”

      “I know. It’s not you. It’s me.” She couldn’t hold his gaze any longer. “This is all moving a little fast for me.”

      “I’ve known you for ten years.”

      She laughed a little. “You’ve barely spoken to me, and now, suddenly, you want…” She couldn’t continue.

      “It’s not sudden. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but things were never right for us.”

      Her gaze flew to his. “Max—”

      “It’s true.” He leaned closer. “It’s complicated, and I’m not sure I understand it. I’m not very good at explaining myself. I don’t have to do it very often.”

      “I don’t think—”

      He cut her off. “We’re going to be together all weekend.” His gaze narrowed. “If I have my way, really together. I want you to understand that. I don’t want to play games.”

      “I’m feeling overwhelmed.”

      “I tend to have that effect on people.” With his fingertips he gently traced the curve of her eyebrows. The touch made her shiver. “I decided last night that I’m tired of waiting. I’d prefer to know exactly where I stand with you.”

      She was drowning in the intoxicating sensation of his clean scent filling her head and his warmth wrapping her in a sensory cocoon. “Max, please.”

      “Please what?” His voice had dropped to a seductive whisper. “Please stop? Please don’t stop?”

      She shook her head, trying to clear it. “I don’t know.”

      His lips turned into a beautiful smile that stole her breath and made her heart skip a beat. “Don’t worry.” He reached for her hand, then raised it to press a kiss to her wrist. “I’ve waited this long, and I may not like it, but I can wait a little longer. I can wait until you’re ready.”

      Sidney drew a steadying breath.

      “A few more hours won’t kill me.”

      “Hours?” she choked out.

      His smile widened. “Did I happen to mention that in addition to ‘Mad Max,’ my adversaries call me ‘Max the Relentless?”’

      “I’d heard that.”

      He tipped his head so his mouth was a hairbreadth from hers. “You’re about to experience it firsthand.”

      Her knees almost buckled. “I might not survive.”

      He pressed a swift kiss to her lips. “Don’t worry,” he said again. “You won’t get hurt. I promise.”

      Her lips burned from the slight contact, but the words penetrated the fog in her brain to leave her with an uneasy feeling. “You can’t guarantee that.”

      He evidently decided to ignore her protest. He shrugged. “I’ll let you make the choice, Sidney. Just don’t wait too long to make it.”

      Or, she thought, you’ll make it for me.