To the Max (36 page)

“This was so embarrassing,” she muttered.

They’d both been so distressed, they hadn’t made any sense when they’d arrived at the ER. Max had opted for the quickest yet least politically correct way of explaining how a vibrating piece of metal had ended up in her stomach. He hadn’t given a shit what anybody thought, but she was more reserved.

The same nurse who had attended them when they’d last been there because of the car accident passed by. “Oh, here you guys are again. Having an interesting week, huh?”

No shit.

Annie sat down. “I think this proves I totally suck at spontaneity and taking chances. Sex swings, vibrating bullets. Not made for me. I’m sorry, Max.”

Sorry?

Max narrowed his eyes at her, his mouth tight. He took her hand, pulled her up and dragged her to the first room he saw. Luckily, it was a cleaning closet. He shut the door and loomed over her, keeping her caged with his hands. He needed privacy for what he was going to say.

“You think it was the vibrating bullet that made me come so hard I almost passed out? I love you, baby. It was you loving my cock with your hands and mouth, licking and sucking it, your eyes glazed from arousal. Your pussy dripping wet from pleasuring me. How you enjoyed it. All that was what made that blowjob the fucking best I ever had.
You
doing it was what made it the best, not the fucking vibrating bullet. Do you understand?”

She nodded. Good. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth, kissing her hard, driving his point home.

“As a matter of fact,” he continued, “we’re banning vibrating bullets, at the very least until the baby is born. Now let’s go home, Ace.”

“So we don’t have any use for this?” she said, showing him a sterile bag with the damn bullet in it.

He pondered for a second. “Let’s keep it. I’m going to make you squirt like crazy with that thing.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “What if you swallow it?”

He shrugged. “We’ll just let it vibrate in my stomach until the battery runs out. No biggie.”

Chapter Twenty

“This is some New Year’s Eve party,” Max mumbled as he scanned the ballroom, which was brimming with women decked out in bling and men in tuxedos.

They were downtown, in the most luxurious hotel in Boston, where apparently the Vaughans had been giving the best and most exclusive end-of-the-year party since for fucking ever.

Annie had told him there were several events she had to attend with her grandmother, and this was one of those. She’d mentioned also that he could skip it if he didn’t want to go, but no way was he celebrating the New Year without her.

“You’ll do great,” she said, gently patting his chest. “Just a couple of hours. I always leave soon after the New Year is announced. We’ll make it in time to go shoot some fireworks with your brothers.”

“Okay. But let’s stop in the way to Alden to get some food.” He was starving and by the looks of it, what was on the waiters’ trays wasn’t going to cut it.

She grinned. “This is a place to see and be seen. Everyone here feeds through photosynthesis.”

He lifted her face with a finger on her chin and brushed her lips with his. “Have I told you already you look absolutely spectacular?”

“Only a thousand times.”

“Out of a fairy tale.” That afternoon Charlene had personally delivered a dress and a velvet box with diamonds to Max’s place. Apparently the Vaughan matriarch was a control freak the likes of Cole, and now Annie was made up from head to toe, all regal and elegant. A designer maternity gown that de-accentuated her pregnancy. Family jewels. Not a hair out of place. The whole nine yards. A true heiress. He couldn’t wait to get home and unmake her. “You are stunning dressed like this, but in my bed, naked, no makeup, your hair all over you, begging me to fuck you, you’re a million times better.”

A faint blush spread over her. “Good you think so, because I’m not too fond of fancy clothes. Let’s go. The sooner we start, the sooner we finish.”

As they were walking toward the guests, Barbara joined them. “Annie, Max, nice to have you here.” She was dressed impeccably, totally decked out, and acting like the hostess. Soon, something demanded her attention, and making her excuses, she left.

“If my grandmother sees her doing that, she’s going to get pissed,” Annie whispered.

So she had noticed it too. “Do you care she acts like the hostess?”

“Nope. The more public relations Barbara does, the less I have to. Let’s get started.”

He took her hand, intertwining their fingers.

Mingling was damn hard. Greetings. Introductions. Empty chitchat. Annie handled it like a pro.

“You want something to drink?” he asked as he saw her keeping track of the waiters and their trays full of champagne.

“Yes, please. Juice.”

He went to get it and on his way back, he saw her grandmother approaching her.

“Patricia,” the older woman said from behind Annie.

She turned around. “Good evening, Grandma.”

“Grandmother,” she corrected, and gazing at her granddaughter softly, added, “you look beautiful.”

“Thanks. It’s all you. Like always.”

“Come with me, dear. I want you to meet Mr. Askan. He’s a lovely young man with a very bright future. You will hit it off right away.”

“Grandma, I came—”

“Good evening, Mrs. Vaughan,” Max interrupted, handing the glass to Annie.

Patricia Vaughan’s expression hardened. “Mr. Bowen.” Then to Annie. “I thought you would come alone as you usually do.”

She took a sip of the juice. “No.”

“I see you’re still with my granddaughter.”

Max tried not to take her reproving tone personally. “Yes. Still with your granddaughter. Sorry.”

The old lady pursed her lips, gave him a once-over. “At least the dreadful hair is gone. And he owns a tuxedo.”

“It’s rented.” He brushed his hand over his hair and smiled. “And the hair is gone. Until the next movie.”

She grimaced. “Dear God.”

“Come on, Grandma,” Annie said with a chuckle. “Max is just pulling your leg.”

“Grandmother, dear. Grandmother.”

A man sporting a huge smile interrupted. “Annie, how good to see you again. How are you doing?” He held her by the arm and kissed her on the cheek.

“Fine, Sebastian. Max Bowen, Sebastian Franke.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sebastian said, holding his hand out.

Max shook it. So this was the famous Sebastian. He’d better remove his hand from Annie, or he would be in danger of losing it.

“Patricia and Sebastian are old friends,” Annie’s grandmother offered.

“What do you think if we dance? You don’t mind, right?” Sebastian asked Max.

Fuck yeah, he minded.

Annie chimed in before he could say a word. “Thanks, Sebastian, but there are things I have to discuss with my grandmother.”

“No, there aren’t. Of course you must dance with Sebastian, Patricia. Besides, that would give me a chance to talk with Mr. Bowen. Get to know each other.”

By the looks of Annie, that was what scared her the most.

He kissed her softly on the lips and whispered, “Go, Ace. I’ll be fine.”

As he watched Annie being escorted by Sebastian to the dance floor, Annie’s grandmother spoke to him, her tone dry. “Mr. Bowen, let’s take a walk.”

O-kay.

He didn’t answer because no answer was required. She was already going, sure he would obey. Max took a deep breath and followed Patricia Vaughan to an adjacent office. He didn’t noticed her motioning for Charlene, but she must have, because after they entered the room, Charlene did too. She handed the old lady a small leather pad. Then she left.

Patricia Vaughan sat behind a desk, put on her glasses, and opened what looked like a checkbook. “Mr. Bowen, how much is going to cost me for you to disappear from my granddaughter’s life?”

He inhaled deep. He’d had a feeling this was going to happen. “Mrs. Vaughan, I think you have the wrong impression about me. I—”

“I’m seventy-eight years old, and in spite of what others would want to believe, I’m not going soft in the head. I know very well what’s going on here. Now, how much?” she asked, picking up a pen.

Max shook his head. “You don’t have enough money.”

She laughed bitterly. “Yes, I do, Mr. Bowen.”

“No, you don’t. There’s not enough money in the world to buy me off. I don’t care about money.”

She sighed condescendingly. Took off her glasses. “Sure. Money means nothing to you. You love my granddaughter unconditionally, would even if she didn’t have a penny. Et cetera, et cetera. I’ve heard it all, believe me.” She handed him a check he didn’t even bother to glance at.

“Not from me you haven’t heard it.”

“I always make a point of knowing who I’m dealing with.”

“I have nothing to hide.”

“That’s debatable, Mr. Bowen. Or should I say Mr. Banks? Because that’s the name of your real father, right? A rather long and sordid record, but I’m sure you already know.”

Max braced his legs apart, crossing his arms over his chest. “Actually, I don’t. I’ve seen that man twice in my life. Either way, I already told Annie. She doesn’t care.”

“But I do. And if you cared about her, you would too. Especially if you claim to have only her best interest in mind. You come from totally different worlds, and you’re not good enough for her. Look around you. She belongs in Boston, with someone like Mr. Franke. You should be in Hollywood, jumping off cars or whatever it is you do there. Living your carefree life. She needs a husband and a father for her baby, not an unreliable adrenaline junkie who edits pornographic pictures in his spare time. You will hurt her.”

Her words stung, but he didn’t let it show. “I would never hurt her.”

“No, you won’t, because I won’t let you,” she finished. She wrote a second check and pushed it to his side of the table. “Take them both. No one needs to know about this. You and everybody around you would be set for life with this money. The only condition is you leave my granddaughter alone.”

Max studied the old lady for a long second. “You’ve got me wrong, Mrs. Vaughan, very wrong. But I see there’s nothing I can say to convince you, so I won’t. I’ll follow your advice in one thing: it’s better if this stays between us.” Annie didn’t need to know. She wouldn’t take it as well as he was taking it.

As he was leaving, she said, “The checks will be waiting for you when you decide to see reason, Mr. Bowen. Don’t take too long. I’m not a patient woman.”

Max stopped at her words. He considered turning around and raising hell but decided otherwise. “Good night, ma’am. If I don’t see you before midnight, have a happy New Year.”

He left the office, took a deep breath, and calmed himself. There was no reason to ruin Annie’s night. They had a New Year to celebrate. And a birthday.

He found her talking with a small group of people, most of them men, all totally smitten, even the old gentleman by her side. “May I steal her?” he asked, joining the gathering and putting his hand on the small of her back.

She reached for him right away.

“If you must,” someone answered.

“Gentlemen.” She excused herself and followed him to the dance floor.

He encircled her with his arms. But to his surprise, she went on her tiptoes and hugged him hard. “Where were you?”

“Your grandmother showed me around.”
Taught me my place, more than anything.

“I was afraid you’d left.”

“Why would I leave, Ace?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Was she rude to you?”

Max chuckled and lied through his teeth. “Not more than usual.”

She opened her mouth, but he silenced her with a kiss. A long, deep kiss that he needed desperately to erase the echo of Patricia Vaughan’s words.

She snuggled against him.

“How did it go with Mr. Franke?”

“He doesn’t dance as well as you,” she whispered into his neck.

Maybe, but Patricia Vaughan had made a valid point. Annie fit perfectly in this world, and he wasn’t a Franke. Or a Vaughan. Or any other or the Bostonian blue bloods. His family hadn’t come over on the
Mayflower
. His mother came from Sweden to tour the US in a hippie bus, giving it all up for the glamour of booze and trashy trailer parks. His biological father… well, yeah, no
Mayflower
royalty there.

* * * *

The countdown had started and the whole ballroom was chanting out loud—with them, Max and Annie. The alcohol had flowed freely, and the atmosphere, along with the stuck-up socialites, was very relaxed.

“Eight, seven, six, five, four…”

Max turned Annie to him and cupped her face. Everyone was screaming around them, but she could only hear him, talking against her mouth. “Three, two, one. Happy New Year, love. And happy birthday.”

The room faded, and there was only Max and Annie, kissing.

“Best way ever to greet the New Year,” she said.

It had been a great party. The night had gone by in a flash, probably because this time Max was by her side and made everything easier. Except for dealing with the women. They flocked to him. The combination of tuxedo, short, rumpled Mohawk, and blond, trimmed beard had proved explosive.

“I think I can make it better.”

She chuckled. “I’m sure you can.”

Suddenly, someone bumped into her. A friend of her grandmother’s.

“Annie, I didn’t see you. How are you, honey?”

Beatrice Midori was in her forties and was one of the most influential businesswomen in the country.

“Fine. And you?”

“You’re pregnant,” Beatrice said, looking down at her belly.

“Yes. Did you come with Shane?”

She scrunched her nose. “No. Here comes my date.”

Annie followed Beatrice’s gaze, and her breath caught. There, in the middle of her grandmother’s party, was Luigi.

“Congratulations, Ms. Griffin,” he said, his eyes drifting to her belly too.

“Do you know each other?” Beatrice asked, probably sensing the weird vibe.

“Something like that,” Luigi said. “You look beautiful, Annie. Pregnancy becomes you.”

Of all the places to meet Luigi.

“Yes, it does,” she heard Max say as he put his arm around her waist and brought her to him.