Hot Nights with the...Australian. Nicola Marsh

the initiative! Chloe stared at him in awed silence.

      He made an offhand gesture. ‘You still have the choice.’

      ‘I don’t want her in charge of anything to do with me anymore,’ Chloe said vehemently.

      He nodded. ‘My lawyer will sort it out for you.’

      Just like that! She shook her head in amazement, scarcely able to believe that the shackles of a lifetime could be broken so easily. ‘My mother will fight against it. What did she say when you arranged this meeting?’

      He shrugged. ‘She wanted to speak to you, which I would not allow.’

      ‘I don’t want to listen to her.’

      ‘I did pass that on,’ he said dryly, totally unruffled by whatever arguments had been thrown at him.

      Of course he wasn’t emotionally involved, Chloe reasoned. To him it was a clear-cut business issue of ending an agent/actor contract and settling the financial fallout.

      ‘Do I have to be at the meeting tomorrow?’ she asked anxiously.

      ‘Do you want to be?’ He didn’t seem to be the least bit concerned about it, again leaving the choice up to her.

      ‘No.’ She could well imagine the harangue she would be subjected to—the long list of all her mother had done for her. Except it wasn’t for her. It had never been for her.

      ‘Are you frightened your mother will persuade you to keep her on as your agent?’ he asked curiously.

      ‘No. I just don’t want to listen to her. If you can work it without me …’

      ‘It will undoubtedly go more smoothly without you. I’ll have my lawyer join us for breakfast in the morning. You can give him your instructions and he’ll act on them.’

      ‘I think that would be best.’

      Another decision made—by herself, for herself.

      ‘Yes,’ he agreed, rising from his chair. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Chloe, I’ll call him now. Will eight o’clock suit?’

      ‘Yes, but …’ She looked down at her blue silk party dress. ‘I have only these clothes.’

      ‘A bathrobe will be fine for breakfast,’ he assured her. ‘I’ll arrange for clothes to be brought to you from the hotel boutiques when they open. Don’t worry about appearances. The big picture is more important.’

      The big picture … one she was drawing, not her mother or Tony or even Maximilian Hart, who was giving her choices, not making decisions for her. She watched him move away, taking out his mobile phone to make the call to his lawyer. Somehow his power didn’t feel quite so intimidating anymore. He was using it on her behalf—the white knight slaying her dragons.

      She couldn’t help liking him for it.

      CHAPTER THREE

      STEPHANIE ROLLINS did not bring a lawyer to the meeting. She walked into Max’s office wearing power clothes—purple dress, wide red belt, red high heels, red fingernails—with the overweening confidence of a woman who had always held sway over her daughter and didn’t believe that was about to change. Not even the presence of his lawyer shook her, not visibly. She viewed them both with a haughty disdain, as though Max was merely following through on his word, putting on a show.

      The assumption was implicit that whatever Chloe had said to him last night, she would have backtracked on it this morning. There would be too big a void in her life without her mother. She wouldn’t be able to cope on her own, had no-one else to turn to now that Tony Lipton had committed the unforgivable, destroying his credibility.

      Max greeted her with cold courtesy, introduced her to Angus Hilliard, who headed his legal department, saw her seated and returned to his own chair behind the executive desk. ‘As it turns out, there is no need for any discussion, Stephanie,’ he said, gesturing for Angus to hand her the document severing her services as Chloe’s agent.

      She took it, read it, raised derisive eyes. ‘This isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. Chloe will come back to me once she’s calmed down. If you hadn’t interfered last night, given your support …’

      ‘Which she will continue to have.’

      ‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll look after what you perceive as her interests for the duration of her contract with you. It serves your interests. But after that …’

      ‘I can steer Chloe to a reputable agent who will not take the exorbitant percentage of her earnings that you do,’ Max slid in, his dislike of this woman so intense he intended to completely sabotage her influence over Chloe.

      Anger spurted into her eyes. ‘Without me she would be nothing. Chloe knows that. I engineered every step of her career, had her trained to be capable of carrying off any role, chose what would be the best showcase for her, pushed her into becoming the star you are now exploiting.’

      ‘Yours is not the face that lights up the screen,’ Max stated cuttingly. ‘You didn’t train you daughter to do that. It’s a natural gift, which you have exploited for your own gain. In actual fact, you are nothing without her.’

      Max enjoyed ramming that home, seeing the furious frustration in her eyes.

      ‘You think you’ve got the upper hand?’ she threw at him defiantly, rising to her feet and tossing the legal notice of separation on the desk. ‘When your contract with Chloe is up, I’ll see that she never signs another one with you.’

      He eyeballed her with all the ruthless power at his command. ‘Don’t count on it, Stephanie. I’d advise you to use what you’ve milked out of your daughter to get a life of your own.’

      She stared back, blazing fury gradually giving way to speculative calculation. ‘Why are you doing this? Why are you making it so personal?’

      He shrugged and relaxed back in his chair, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. ‘In this instance, the role of crusader for justice appeals to me.’

      Her eyes narrowed. ‘Or have you got the hots for Chloe? Seizing the moment?’

      That shot was too close to the bone to ignore. He produced a mocking look. ‘I am somewhat occupied with Shannah Lian, who, I doubt, would take kindly to that suggestion. Whatever my reputation with women, Stephanie, I’m not known for playing with two at the same time.’

      ‘Whatever your interest is in Chloe, you’ll move on. You always do,’ she retorted, her chin lifting belligerently. ‘And once you lose your interest in her, she’ll come back to me.’

      Never, Max thought with such violent feeling it surprised him. He watched Stephanie Rollins sail out of his office on her triumphant exit line, silently vowing she would not triumph. The door was slammed shut behind her to punctuate her power and Max instantly started planning to negate it.

      ‘Phew! I’d hate to be in that woman’s clutches,’ Angus commented.

      Max swivelled his chair to face the end of the desk where his lawyer was seated. Angus Hilliard was in his forties; bald, bespectacled and in the habit of hiding his incisive brain behind a mild manner. ‘The trick is not to give those long red fingernails anything to draw blood from. She’s had her pound of flesh, Angus.’

      ‘That’s for sure.’ Behind the rimless glasses the lawyer’s grey eyes glittered with the urge to act. ‘From what Chloe told us over breakfast about everything she’d earned as a minor, I could probably get her mother for fraudulent appropriation of …’

      ‘No. We don’t dig up the past,’ Max said firmly. ‘Better for Chloe to close the door on that victimisation rather than relive it in court. I’m not sure she’d be up for it. Focusing on what she can do with the future is a far more positive step. And to give her the chance to take it, we have to stop her mother from getting to her.’

      ‘Needs