Their Million-Dollar Night (9 page)

This was his world. She'd glimpsed it more than once. He worked all the time, his job was demanding…it was his life.

She'd expected to feel different this morning. Somehow, her outlook should have changed in a significant way. But aside from some aches from having had sex for the first time in a year, she didn't feel unusual.

He finished his call and came over to her. Bending, he kissed her and then sat down next to her.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said, feeling shy and a bit unsure. She had nothing to wear but last night's dress; she'd bared her soul to this man last night. She wasn't sure she wanted him to realize how much of herself he'd seen.

“I would have had breakfast for you, too, but Hayden didn't know what you liked to eat. I'll order that now.”

“Why would Hayden know that?” she asked, sensing there was more to this than breakfast. She'd noticed how Max liked every detail to be perfect. Why?

Max put his arm along the back of the couch and drew her closer to his side. “I know my employees' preferences.”

“All of them?” she asked, because from what she understood he ran a huge conglomerate.

He squeezed her tight. “No, smarty, not personally, but I have a file and my secretary accesses the information when I need it.”

She was amazed at the amount of detail that implied. Why did Max do that? She tipped her head back to study him more carefully. She sensed there was something underlying here. What was she missing? “Why would you keep a file like that?”

“People like it when you remember little things about them.”

Details were the things most easy to forget, Roxy thought. She knew that because, in the group home she'd lived in as a teen, she'd been one of three blond girls. No one had bothered to remember any of their names, just called them all “blond-girl.” A name was an important detail, and she'd made sure as an adult that everyone remembered hers. But Max was going
beyond that. He was remembering things that sometimes even spouses and parents didn't know.

“What are the details about you? What are the things that make you happy?” she asked, hoping he'd reach out and show her some part of himself that no one else knew.

“That's not important. What do you like for breakfast?”

She sighed. Max wasn't going to reveal anything intimate to her. She'd bared her body to this man and he wanted to know what she liked for breakfast. When was she going to learn? “I like toast with blackberry jelly and coffee.”

“That's not breakfast. That's what you eat when you're in a hurry.”

He wasn't going to let this go. There was more to this than breakfast. From growing up in the system, she knew that everyone, no matter how normal they seemed, had some kind of issue to deal with. This need for facts was Max's way of building a relationship.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I'm trying to figure out what makes
you
tick.”

“What you see is what you get. Tell me about you and breakfast.”

“What's to tell? I've never had a leisurely breakfast. Mornings aren't really a time to hang out for show dancers.” When she was younger, she'd spent all of her time at the dance studio before and after
school. Food had just never seemed that important, mainly because it had been scarce.

“Now that you have the gory details about my morning eating habits…what about you?”

Max stared down at her, his hands moving slowly over her shoulder, caressing her as they talked. She settled deeper into the curve of his body.

“I'm usually the one who makes the arrangements, so no one needs to know my preferences.”

“What if I'm the one ordering?” she asked. She could never tolerate a relationship that was uneven. She wanted to take as good care of him as he did of her. She was going to make this relationship with Max work. She didn't want it to end when he left, and that meant really getting to know him. She'd shown him way more of herself than she'd meant to, something she'd never done before with anyone. So there was more to Max and her than she'd initially thought.

He arched one eyebrow at her. “In that case, I like poached eggs and Canadian bacon.”

“Was that so hard? I'm not going to leak the information.”

“You might be the first person to ask what I liked,” he said, leaning her head back against his shoulder. He kissed her slowly and with great tenderness.

“I'm sure that's because most people already know.” The kind of man he was, he'd surround himself with like-minded people. Hayden might not know
what she liked to eat, but he treated his staff like family and she knew he was one of Max's closest friends.

“They don't.”

“That must be your fault then.”

He waited for her to continue, and she felt as if she might have blundered into something that she didn't mean to say. But she'd noticed that Max took care of the people around him, and not vice versa.

“You don't give anyone a chance to know you. You keep the spotlight focused on them.”

“Them, or you?”

“Well, me, and it's very flattering but I forget to ask about you. I want to know
your
secrets.”

“I thought Hayden gave you a file on me?”

“That only included your gambling habits. I want to know the real secrets. The ones that no one else knows.”

“There are no secrets, Roxy. What you see is what you get with me.”

He pushed to his feet and went back to his computer. He lifted the phone and made a call to room service, ordering breakfast for both of them. “I have to work after breakfast for a few hours.”

She put her coffee cup down and walked slowly toward the bedroom. Then she realized she was running, the way she always did when things got a little sticky emotionally. She had no idea how to treat Max. But she knew that they both had to be able to pry into each other's lives. It was unfair that he'd seen
her in all her imperfection and was unwilling to give her even a glimpse at the inner man he carefully hid.

“Did I offend you?” she asked.

“No, you didn't. I'm not a secrets kind of guy. This really is all I am.”

There was a sadness in his eyes, and Roxy knew that there were secrets inside Max but sensed they'd been buried too deeply for him to tell her easily what they were. She'd find them out on her own.

R
oxy wiped her sweaty palms on the legs of her pants and walked into the lobby of the Chimera one week later. SuziYuki, the high-stakes gambler whom Roxy had started hostessing for after Max, was a lot of fun. And she needed little encouragement to stay in the casino. Her game was craps and she was a phenomenal player. When Roxy had left Suzi a few minutes earlier she'd been up almost fifty thousand dollars.

Of course, she wasn't nervous at all about being a hostess. That job was turning into something she could definitely get used to doing, even though it didn't hold the same luster that dancing always had.
But she'd realized that dancing would never be the center of her life again.

Max was slowly becoming that focal point, which bothered her because she wasn't sure how she fitted into his life. One on one, they meshed, mainly be cause Max made sure that they did. He really listened to her and understood the things she wanted, as well as things she was afraid to ask for.

And that made her nervous, because she didn't know what to do for him. Of course, when he'd asked her to join him at a business lunch, she'd said yes.

Now she was having second thoughts. She'd never gone to college, hadn't even graduated high school. Her birthday was in March, so she'd become an adult before she was supposed to have graduated. Having no place to stay she'd started working in clubs instead of staying in school.

What if she embarrassed Max? What if she said something that was—

“Hey, Blondie, I've been waiting for you,” Max said, slipping his arm around her waist.

She tried to relax against him and couldn't. “Hey, yourself. Where is everyone else?”

“We're meeting them upstairs in a private dining room. I wanted a chance to talk to you first.”

She took a deep breath. “You don't have to worry, Max. I won't embarrass you.”

He furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Just that I know I don't know anything about your business. I'll keep quiet and just smile. I won't say anything—”

He put his finger on her lips, stopping the flow of words that was growing out of control. In her mind she wanted to apologize for everything she'd ever done and she didn't like that. She didn't like feeling discomfited by the life she'd led when she compared it to his.

“What are you talking about?” he asked quietly. “I know all I need to about business. I need you here to keep me from saying something I shouldn't.”

“That doesn't sound like the man I've come to know,” she said. She'd observed Max on the phone and he was always unfailingly polite and to the point. The ultimate professional.

“Well, MacNeil is seriously pissing me off,” he said, taking her hand and leading her out of the lobby and into the courtyard that led to another tower of the hotel.

“So what am I supposed to do?” she asked as they walked.

“Just be yourself. He's bringing his wife as well. That's his way of calling a truce.”

“Are you sure you want me there?” As soon as she asked she wanted to kick herself. What was wrong with her that she had to doubt her own worth? “Forget I said that.”

“I will. Don't be nervous. Harron is a nice man when he's not trying to keep me dangling. And his wife, Sheila, is a huge patron of the arts in Vancouver, especially local dance.”

She relaxed a little, thinking that maybe this lunch wouldn't be as bad as she feared.

But Max still seemed tense, and she wasn't sure how to help him out. “Are you nervous?”

“No. Why?”

“You seem edgy.”

“Edgy?”

“Don't take this the wrong way…but you remind me of a predator on the hunt.”

He laughed. “Good. I want MacNeil to understand exactly how I feel about this delay of his.”

“Isn't this just part of the way acquisitions work?” she asked. Max had explained that he was in the process of buying out MacNeil's family-owned travel agency, the third largest in North America.

“Sometimes, but I'm on vacation and I'd rather be in my suite making love to you. Yet duty calls.”

“If you hadn't invited me to lunch you'd be in your suite by yourself,” she said, because she didn't want him to be too confident in his hold over her.

“You think so?” He pulled her off the walkway and behind a hedge.

There was a fountain gurgling in the middle of an oasis. The Chimera prided itself on its romantic
ambience, and this particular fountain was a well-known wedding proposal spot. In fact, it was hidden so that a couple could have privacy and still have a photo souvenir. There was a small area behind the garden area where a photographer could be stationed.

“I know so. There's no way I could have asked Hayden for a long lunch to meet you in your room. Why are we here?”

Max led her to the bench in the middle of the garden. “Please have a seat. I have something I need to ask you before we join the MacNeils.”

Anxiety slithered down her spine. “Do you want me to pretend I wasn't a topless dancer?”

He cupped her face in his hands, his long fingers sliding over her cheeks to the back of her neck and holding her so that he could stare down into her eyes. He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers.

“I thought we already covered this. I want you to be yourself. I like the woman that you are, Roxy.”

She swallowed, unsure how to respond to that statement. Sometimes he made her feel too much. A swell of emotion that she was unprepared to handle welled up in her throat. His hands dropped to his sides and he gestured toward the bench again. She sat down, crossing her legs and waiting for Max to join her. When he didn't she tipped her head back to look up at him.

 

Max straightened his tie and glanced around to make sure the photographer he'd hired was in position. He'd planned every detail of this proposal carefully. It had been a tight timetable to make sure he was ready for the MacNeil meeting and get the ring he wanted flown in before lunch. But he was used to juggling several projects at the same time.

And this thing with Roxy needed to be settled. He wasn't going to be happy until he'd put his mark on her so that every man she encountered knew she was his. Last night when she'd contemplated going home instead of coming up to his suite, he'd realized that he needed something permanent between them. A bond that even Roxy couldn't deny.

He patted his pocket again and rehearsed the words he'd planned to say.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Great. First she thought he was nervous and now she probably thought…ah, hell he had no idea what she thought. He only knew that he'd been on his own his entire life and finding Roxy was like finding a piece that had been missing.

“Making sure every detail is right,” he said, leaning to the left and finally spotting the pedestal ice-bucket and the bottle of champagne in it.

She raised both eyebrows at him. “For what?”

He took a deep breath and sat down next to her on
the bench. He took her small fine-boned hand in his and traced the veins on the back of her hand. She twisted her hand and slid her fingers through his.

“These last few days have been incredible,” he said, not really sure where those words came from. Though they were the truth he didn't want her to know how he felt.

“I feel the same. I never thought that I'd meet someone like you.” She smiled at him, her expression so tender that he knew he'd made the right choice. Knew there was no way she'd deny him.

“I think Hayden's finally found a way to pay me back for befriending him all those years ago.”

“I don't like the sound of that. I told him I wasn't interested in being set up with you.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“Well my considerable charm must have worked on you.”

“Not your charm, Max. Your attention to detail.”

Max wasn't sure how they'd strayed onto talking about Hayden and knew he didn't want to discuss his friend. He wanted to discuss them. “Hayden has nothing to do with this.”

“With what? You're being vague and that's not like you.”

No it wasn't like him. His normal mode of operation was just to take what he wanted and keep
moving forward. To acquire businesses, homes, cars, friends. He knew how to do that. But a wife…that was infinitely harder. They'd share everything—a home, a bed, their lives—and he'd never in his forty years shared all that.

Even his childhood home had been a series of empty showplaces that his family members had moved between depending on the season. His father always remarried in June, his mother always retreated to Aspen in November. But he wanted more with Roxy. He wanted to have something—someone—who could be with him all the time. He wanted a person to fill the void his career had always filled.

“I've never done this before.”

“Done
what?
” she asked, putting her hand on his thigh.

All his thoughts faded. He wanted to move her hand higher. To bend and take her mouth with his and then make love to her. To reinforce the physical bonds that were between them.

“Done what, Max?” she asked again.

“Asked you to marry me,” he said, biting out the words in a way he hadn't planned on them sounding. Dammit, he always screwed up the romantic fantasy when left to his own devices.

“What?”

“Marry me, Roxy.”

He stood and pulled the velvet box from his
pocket, snapping it open as he dropped to one knee in front of her. He took her hand in his and looked up into her eyes. They were cloudy with doubts and he understood that. Everything had happened so quickly between them…too quickly, it might seem, but Max had learned long ago to trust his instincts and the way he reacted to Roxy was totally instinctive.

He took the platinum marquise-cut aquamarine-and-diamond-encrusted ring from the box and slipped it onto her ring finger. She didn't say anything, but goose bumps spread up her arm.

He heard the sound of the photographer snapping the pictures. The sound of people on the path that lay beyond the hedges. The soft sound of her every inhalation of breath, but he didn't hear the one word he waited for.

“I have a bottle of champagne and some glasses over here. We'll have a toast and then after lunch, I'm taking you away for an afternoon of pampering.”

“I can't go.”

“Why not?”

She pushed to her feet, wrapping her arms around her waist. She started when the ring scraped the skin of her arm. She looked down on the large ring and pulled it from her hand.

“Thank you for asking me to marry you, but I can't.”

She held the ring out to him, but he didn't take it. He knew she'd change her mind. He just had to find the right words to say. The correct argument to use.

“Why can't you marry me?”

“We hardly know each other, Max. We're still practically strangers.”

“No, we're not. We know a lot about one another. I know you inside and out, Roxy. Don't deny that.”

“Maybe you know my vulnerabilities, but that doesn't mean we can live with each other day in and day out. I'm still adjusting to my new life, and it's hard. I don't know that I'm ready to become your wife and change my life again.”

He crossed to her, taking her chin in his hand and leaning her head back. “Those are excuses.”

“You might be right, but I can't marry you now.”

He let go of her chin and stepped back. No one had ever told him no before. That wasn't true, he thought, his mind racing to accept the fact that she'd really said no. He forced back the momentary anger that had risen when she'd taken his ring from her finger. Roxy just needed to be persuaded, he thought.

He'd studied the details around Roxy. He knew things about her that few others did. What had he missed? Somehow this wasn't about marrying to make Harron get off his back anymore, but about making sure she stayed in his life.

 

He didn't say anything, just kept looking at her with a mixture of anger and resolve. Roxy didn't know
what to do. Only knew that saying no was the hardest thing that she'd ever done. But she was only just figuring out this new life she had, this life away from dancing, and marrying Max after knowing him for such a short time wouldn't be fair to either of them.

She didn't want to face the truth, but in her soul was the fear that the home she'd felt in Max's arms might disappear if they lived together.

She took his hand in hers and pressed the ring into the center of his palm. She knew he wouldn't beg her to reconsider and she admitted to herself that was the problem. It was almost as if Max knew those details of her life and that he'd figured she'd say yes because acceptance had been so rare for her.

She turned on her heel and walked away, struggling not to limp but so agitated she couldn't keep her gait smooth. Her legs trembled. She didn't know if she'd make it back to some private place before she gave in to the tears she felt welling up behind her eyes. Because for a minute there she'd wanted to give herself to him cheaply. To trade her life for a ring. And she'd always believed she'd never do that.

“Roxy?”

She paused but didn't turn to look at him. She couldn't see him again, knowing she was just the right face at the right time, not the love of his life.

Why did that matter?

Her mind didn't know the answer, but her heart
did. She was falling for him. Heck, she'd fallen for him that first morning on the beach. Saying no was the only way she knew to protect her heart from breaking once again.

“Yes?”

“Where are you going?” he asked in a gruff voice that gave her a spark of hope that maybe he wasn't as unemotional as he was pretending to be.

She pivoted on her heel to face him. The midday sun slanted through the canopy of tree branches in the garden, falling over him, leaving him mainly in the shadows next to the fountain.