Postcards From…Verses Brides Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters

smile.

      “Not kind at all. Simply the truth,” Yvette said.

      Maddy could feel Max watching her.

      “This way you’ll have more time to do your strength training and work on your recovery,” he said.

      Yvette looked concerned, her gaze darting between the two of them.

      “You have an injury, Ms. Green? Not a serious one, I am hoping?” she asked.

      “Nothing to worry about,” Maddy said. She wasn’t about to discuss her knee with the other woman. She already felt exposed enough as it was.

      “That is a relief. The world of ballet cannot afford to lose you yet,” Yvette said earnestly.

      Maddy smiled again, even though her face felt tense.

      Max turned to Yvette. “The only thing we have left to discuss is your start date,” he said.

      Maddy crossed to her bed, sitting on the edge to pull on her socks and boots. Her hands were shaking. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

      “I am not working, so it is up to you,” Yvette said.

      “Well, the sooner the better for me.”

      Maddy grit her teeth. She wanted to pick up her boot and throw it across the room at him.

      “I could come tomorrow. Or I have my dance bag in the car right now if you want to start this morning…?” Yvette offered.

      “Yeah? That’d be great. Means I won’t be off my schedule,” Max said.

      Maddy allowed herself one glance toward the kitchen. Yvette was leaning against the table, hands braced behind her, long legs stretched out in front of her. Unable to help herself, Maddy eyed the other woman’s chest. She was a good cup size larger than Maddy. A lot younger, too. And she had the kind of legs men dreamed of getting tangled in.

      Because she was a glutton for punishment, Maddy switched her attention to Max.

      He had his hip cocked against the kitchen counter, one hand tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. His jaw was shadowed with stubble and his shoulders looked ridiculously wide in a black fine-knit sweater. There were no prizes for guessing why Yvette was so keen to be accommodating. Max was sex personified standing there in his bare feet and faded jeans.

      “I shall go get my things from my car,” Yvette said brightly.

      She headed for the door. She was very tall, Maddy decided as she watched the other woman walk away. Too tall for classical ballet. Maddy felt a small dart of satisfaction. On one front, at least, she had the other woman beat.

      Can you hear yourself? Yvette is not your competition. She will never be the competition because Max is your friend—and that’s all he is.

      Still, jealousy burned in her belly, hot and fierce. She was supposed to be the one modeling for Max, not some redheaded goddess. Even though continuing to do so would have been strange and awkward and probably very, very unwise after what had happened last night, Maddy hated the thought that he would now be spending hours staring at Yvette’s no doubt nubile body.

      She stared blindly at her feet, her whole body knotted with tension.

      She was officially nuts. One minute she was almost crying with relief that she and Max had managed to recover from last night’s transgression, the next she was seething with resentment over another woman.

      “Maddy.”

      She looked up to find Max standing in front of her, his gray eyes watchful.

      “I was going to tell you when you got out of the shower, but Yvette arrived earlier than I expected,” he said.

      “Sure,” she said. She even managed a casual shrug. “I understand.”

      “I know how important your career is to you. The last thing I want is to hold you back by using up all your spare time,” he said.

      The clatter of Yvette reentering the apartment claimed his attention.

      “You can change in the bathroom. There’s a robe you can use, if you’d like,” he offered, moving away.

      Maddy’s hands clenched around the bed frame. Now he was offering Yvette his robe—the same robe Maddy had been wearing only yesterday.

      She had a sudden vision of how the next few hours would play out—Max and Yvette locked in intense artistic communion as he sketched her naked body, with Maddy lurking on the fringes of the apartment like a female Quasimodo minus a bell tower.

      She shot to her feet.

      “I’m going out,” she said.

      Both Yvette and Max looked a little nonplussed by her sudden announcement.

      “I need pajamas,” she explained. She started winding her scarf around her neck.

      “Okay. Don’t forget to take the spare key. I might not be around later,” Max said.

      She nodded, but he was already turning away to organize his supplies. Probably eager to get to the part where he got to stare at Yvette’s naked body for hours on end.

      She knew she was being unfair, even irrational, but right at this minute her rational self seemed to have checked out of Hotel Maddy.

      She had to get out of here before she did or said something stupid—such as going over and kissing Max right in front of the other woman, so Yvette knew to keep her distance.

      Nuts. Absolutely crackers.

      She grabbed her coat and purse and strode for the door.

      “It was lovely meeting you, Ms. Green. An honor,” Yvette called after her.

      Maddy glanced over her shoulder. Yvette was holding Max’s robe, the deep red silk flowing from her hands, her beautiful face smiling and hopeful.

      “You, too,” Maddy said, even though it nearly killed her. After all, it wasn’t Yvette’s fault she was beautiful and limber and sexy. Well, mostly.

      Maddy stood in the street and stuffed her hands deep into her pockets, tucking her chin into the folds of her scarf. She had a powerful urge to kick something. Preferably herself.

      What was she doing? Sleeping with Max, getting jealous over other women, obsessing over him. He. Was. Her. Friend. When was her thick subconscious going to get the message?

      She started up the street, but she hadn’t walked more than ten paces before Max called out her name.

      Her stomach did an absurd little flip. She swiveled on her heel, her gaze flying to where he stood on the doorstep, the cordless phone in hand.

      “My sister wants to know if we’d like to come to dinner tonight,” he said.

      Maddy stared at him for a long beat, but he didn’t say anything else.

      “That would be nice,” she said.

      “Okay. Have fun.” He threw her a casual wave before ducking back into the apartment. Maddy stared at the closed door for a long beat.

      What had she expected him to say? Maddy, I’m sorry. The only reason I replaced you is because I can’t bear looking at you and not touching you, especially after last night? You’re so sexy, I don’t know why I never noticed before, you’re driving me crazy.

      She made a disgusted sound at her own idiocy. The last thing she wanted was Max making any such declaration because that would mean he cared for her, that he wanted things from her that she didn’t have to give. It would be a disaster in the making, the beginning of the end.

      Confused, angry, determined, Maddy walked away.

      MAX SHIFTED the wine bottle from one hand to the other and wiped his damp palm on the thigh of his jeans. He’d like to blame his clammy hands on condensation on the bottle, but the truth