Page 6 of Awakening Anna

Chapter Three

Max knockedon her door thirty minutes later carrying the cooked steaks on a white platter, a bottle of wine, and a smile that weakened Anna's knees. He'd changed from his casual t-shirt and cutoff shorts into snug jeans and a white button-down shirt that clung to his broad shoulders while accentuating his narrow hips.

“I left the steaks a little pink,” he said. “If that doesn’t work, I can throw yours back on.”

“No,” Anna said, placing the steaks on the table she’d already set, including the candles Lynnlee had suggested. “A little pink is fine. Thanks again for sharing them.”

“My pleasure.” His smile matched the one he’d flashed in a dream the week before. Right before he’d touched her . . .

Anna stopped that train before it left the station. Thinking about the dreams would not make this dinner any easier to get through. She was supposed to appear open to seduction, not embarrass herself by tackling him on the living room floor.

As he approached the table, Max spotted the painting of a cottage she'd done in college that hung on the wall behind his chair. “Did you do this?” he asked.

“I did. That’s Kerrykeel Cottage in County Donegal.”

Max nodded. “I’m impressed. I minored in art in college and dabble a bit myself.”

She already knew his college background, thanks to the internet, but to avoid sounding like a stalker, she pretended otherwise.

“So you paint as well as write?”

“Sketch, actually.” Max pulled a romance novel from the bookshelf below the picture. After assessing the pirate on the cover, he flipped through the pages. “Are there any specific scenes I should look for in this one?”

Curse Verna and her page two hundred twenty-seven comment.

“There’s the scene when the hero saves the heroine from the evil English commander,” she said, purposely playing coy. “Or the one where she learns her pirate captor is actually a wealthy duke in disguise. I like that one the best.”

“Does she fall in love with him as the pirate or the duke?” he asked, eyes still on the page.

“The pirate, of course,” she answered. “The legitimate title is just a bonus.”

Max seemed pleased with her answer and returned the book to the shelf. He opened the wine soundlessly, as if he’d been doing it since birth, and poured. Thank goodness she’d thought to include wine glasses with the place settings.

Max was the consummate gentleman, edging in Anna’s chair as she took her seat. Over dinner, they discussed books, art, and travel, and as expected, Max's mind was as appealing as the rest of him. He shared her love of Ireland, her desire to someday see the pyramids, and he'd even read Jane Austen, though admittedly, only to impress a girl.

When they’d both pushed their plates away, she said, “I’d love to hear what your current book is about.”

He swirled the wine in his glass. “It’s about a girl.”

“A girl?”

“Yes.”

Max's failure to elaborate increased her curiosity, but Anna didn't want to pry. She knew writers could be protective of their work. If Max preferred to keep the details to himself, that was his prerogative.

“Is the story almost finished?” she asked.

“Almost,” he said, watching her across the table with heat in his eyes. Changing the subject, he said, “Tell me some local gossip. What’s the most scandalous secret in this sleepy little town?”

“You want to hear gossip?” The stereotype that librarians were supposed to be quiet made people more than willing to share their secrets. Which meant there wasn't much that happened in her small town that Anna didn't know about. But why would Max be interested in the local grapevine?

“Research,” he said to her unspoken question. “Consider it fodder for the book.”

Ah, yes. Research. Tonight was all about research.

“Most of our gossip is lame, at best, but there is one secret that tops the rest.”

One brow shot up. “I’m listening.”

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