Intimate Betrayal. Donna Hill

suit of clinging rayon and silk. From another zippered compartment she took out a matching pair of low-heeled sandals. In record time, she’d changed clothes, repaired her minimal makeup, and tucked in some stray strands of hair.

      Satisfied with her transformation, she grabbed her purse and briefcase and headed out of the suite. As soon as she stepped off of the elevator, she spotted the unmistakable figure of Maxwell pacing among the lobby crowd. For a moment, a rush of electricity whizzed through her, and she stood still as an Egyptian statue. To watch him, unobserved, was to see raw energy barely contained beneath bone and sinew. What would it be like to unleash that energy, to see it reach its apex? How would she ever find the words to convey to the reader what was almost mystical, something that had to be experienced—not explained—especially now when her emotions were beginning to cloud her judgment?

      It was as if he sensed her presence, like a jungle cat becoming aware of a predator. He turned, not his whole body, just his head and looked straight at her with those incredible eyes.

      The sudden contact caused Reese’s heart to slam mercilessly in her chest. There was no mistake. What she saw in his eyes was pure, unadulterated hunger.

      The current that snapped back and forth between them was broken when Carmen approached Maxwell and tapped him on the shoulder.

      “The car is out front,” she said.

      Maxwell tore his gaze away from Reese and she was finally freed from the magnetic hold of his eyes.

      Putting on her best smile, she approached the duo. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

      The hot coals of his eyes raked over her, and it took all she had not to tremble.

      “Not at all. I just came down myself.”

      Reese couldn’t have been more stunned if he’d smacked her. Where were the cutting remarks, the sarcasm?

      Maxwell sat opposite Reese and Carmen in the limousine. “Did you talk with the housekeeper, Carmen?”

      “Yes. Everything is in order. You can have your things sent over whenever you’re ready.”

      “Great. Thanks. If you could take care of that for me while Ms. Delaware and I are at the office, I’d appreciate it.”

      “No problem.”

      Curiously, Reese looked from one to the other waiting for someone to clue her in on what was going on. No one did. So she did what came naturally. She asked.

      “Is there some reason why you’re not staying at the hotel, Max?”

      “Yes, there is.” One reason is because I don’t know how I’d be able to resist sneaking into your room each night, he thought. But instead he said, “I always promised myself that if I had to be away from home for long periods of time I’d have someplace I could call my own. I’m sure you’ll be quite comfortable at the hotel,” he added, seeming to want to assure her that the hotel was above reproach.

      How interesting, she mused and made a mental note to explore that little revelation at a later date. “I’d love to see it before we leave.”

      Maxwell cleared his throat. “I’ll make sure that you do,” he returned, his simple statement full of innuendo.

      Where the New York office was charged with an unmistakable energy, the L.A. contingent epitomized California cool. The techs ambled, never rushed, down the corridors. Everyone smiled and looked as though they were headed to the beach instead of one of the fastest growing engineering companies on both coasts.

      As they made their way around the winding maze of cubicles and labs, in and out of security checkpoints, it seemed that every staff member found a way to gain Maxwell’s attention. Everyone seemed thoroughly pleased that he’d returned.

      “Max, good to have you back,” enthused a fiftyish-looking engineer who stopped Maxwell just outside of his office.

      Maxwell actually beamed with warmth, Reese noticed, as the two men embraced in a hearty bear hug. Maxwell turned to face Carmen and Reese with his arm draped across the man’s shoulders.

      This brief moment hinted at a dimension of his personality that he very infrequently allowed to be revealed, Reese realized, as another corner of her heart softened.

      “I’d like to introduce you to Reese Delaware. Ms. Delaware is the journalist from Visions Magazine.”

      At least he didn’t call me a reporter.

      “Ms. Delaware, this is Raymond St. John, the man who runs things in my absence—and when I’m here,” he added, his laughter rumbling from deep in his chest.

      Raymond stretched out his large hand to Reese, which she shook. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Delaware. Don’t let ole Max give you a hard time,” he added in a faint accent that she couldn’t quite place. It was a melodic cross between Caribbean and Southern. She made another mental note and picked up the conversation.

      “He just gets a little itchy and cranky around reporters. But he really is a right nice sorta fella,” he chuckled, miming an exaggerated drawl.

      “That remains to be seen,” Reese teased, giving Raymond the benefit of her best smile.

      “You just keep working on him,” he offered in a stage whisper. “Get Carmen’s help,” he added, winking at Carmen. “She’s the only one who can keep him in line.”

      “The way the two of you are talking, you’re acting like I’m not even here,” Maxwell shot in, pretending offense.

      “I guess that’s my cue,” Raymond said. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Delaware. If you need anything, my office is right down the hall.”

      “Thank you. I appreciate that and please call me Reese.”

      “I sure will. As long as you call me R.J.”

      “Done.”

      Raymond moved down the hallway and disappeared around the corner.

      “Are the two of you about ready?” Maxwell snapped in a low rumble, annoyed by the innocent flirting between R.J. and Reese. He opened the door and stepped inside.

      Carmen and Reese shared a curious look and crossed the threshold.

      Reese’s feet were on fire by the time Maxwell finished his tour of the tri-level facility. She’d lost count of the rooms, offices and various labs, not to mention the basement, and subbasement where all of the computer chips and electronic tapes were fabricated. No wonder everyone she ran into, no matter how fashionably they were dressed, wore sneakers.

      What unnerved her the most was that Maxwell seemed to draw some sort of macabre pleasure at seeing her gritting her teeth from the ache in her toes. What happened to the man who all but admitted that something was happening between them?

      “That about covers everything,” he announced, when they returned to his office three hours later. He turned to her with what she’d swear was a look of mock concern. “I hope the tour wasn’t too tiring. You do look a bit exhausted. Tokyo will be even more grueling. There are three different locations that I’ve selected, spread out across the provinces.” He smiled a cat-like grin. “I hope you’re up to it.”

      “I appreciated your concern,” she replied in a tone strung as tight as the skin across a drum. “But there’s no reason for it. So you don’t have to pretend to care one way or the other.”

      “Whatever you may think of me, I’m not insensitive,” he said in a voice so soft she felt herself drawing closer to be sure she’d heard correctly.

      Sensing a moment of vulnerability, Reese took a deep breath and decided to take a chance. Purposefully she crossed the room and sat in a chair opposite his desk. She looked up at him.

      “Then why do you treat me as though I was some awful thing that has been dropped in your midst one minute and then act like you want to rip my