Page 36 of Second to None
“Don’t make your final decision tonight,” he said. “You’ve had a surprise. I should have told you sooner.”
“If you’d told me sooner, I would never have come here. I would never have known what it was like to make love to you.”
He looked shaken. “Do you regret it?”
“Not for a second. You’ve reawakened the part of me that’s simply a woman—not a mother, not a child-care director—a part that’s been buried for too long.” She smiled. “I’ll always be grateful to you for reminding me she exists.”
“Jake always complained about this.”
“What?”
“He said when you made up your mind, no amount of arguing would change it.” He brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “I didn’t believe him. Back then I didn’t understand that what drew me to you was not just your compassion but your strength. It makes you the woman I’ve wanted, but I hate it.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” The touch of his thumb made her feel like crying, because she would never feel it again. She gave him a wavering smile. “Maybe I should go home.”
He went still. “Stay. Please. I don’t want to let you go yet.”
“I can’t. Not like this.” She waved at the half-unbuttoned shirt she wore. It was too painful to be with him in such an intimate way when she knew it was over.
“No, I suppose not.” He huffed out a sigh of resignation before he let go of her hand.
She pushed back her chair and stood up. As she walked to the crumpled heap of her dress, she found herself holding together the neckline of his shirt in a futile gesture of self-protection.
She scooped up her dress and swiveled to look for her lingerie. Max stood a few feet away, holding out her panties and her bra, his face somber. He was so stunningly handsome that she felt his beauty as a physical blow. “Th-thank you.” She took the scraps of silk and turned away so she could slip the panties on under his shirt. As she unbuttoned it, she lowered her nose to the fabric to inhale a last breath of his scent.
When she started to let the shirt slide off her shoulders, she felt his fingers at the collar, a featherlight touch on her neck as he took it from her. Her back still to him, she pulled the dress on over her head, closing her eyes as he zipped it up without her asking. When he moved her hair aside to finish the task, he pressed his lips against the side of her neck and sent a shiver floating over her skin.
It was pure torment.
She spun around to face him. “Please don’t come with me in the limousine.”
He jerked backward as though she’d slapped him. “But—”
“One goodbye here,” she said. “That’s all I can bear.”
He nodded, but his lips were twisted with unhappiness as he shrugged into his shirt and buttoned it. He fetched her coat and walked beside her to the elevator. When they reached the door, he thumbed the keypad to open it before he raked his fingers through his hair. “After seven years, this is it?” he said.
Sorrow for his obvious desolation rattled in her chest. She stepped into him and rested her hands on his shoulders. “I will always remember tonight and you,” she said. Rising onto her toes, she touched her lips to his. He slid his hands into her hair on either side of her head, tilting it so he could angle his mouth against hers in a way that seared through her.
Pulling back, she lurched into the elevator and turned to watch the doors slowly close Max out of her life.
*
Max sat at the table, drinking glass after glass of the wine he’d so carefully chosen for Emily. It was doing nothing to assuage the ache of her absence. The absence that would last for the rest of his life.
He could hardly believe that she’d burst into his office a mere six days ago. He’d lived a lifetime since then, convinced he had a shot at finally grasping his heart’s desire. She’d begun to open up all the closed doors of his past, letting the fresh breeze of her understanding sweep out the ugly dirt.
And tonight. He swallowed the rest of the wine in the glass and poured another. Tonight had gone beyond his wildest fantasies. Touching her body, being inside her, making her come. His cock stirred as he pictured her walking toward the table with nothing on but her lace-topped stockings. And what they’d done after that. Truth was, he hadn’t expected the sex to be so hot. He’d thought of Emily as sweet, even a little innocent, despite the obvious physical affection between Jake and her.
He would never be able to get those stockings out of his head.
Standing up, he took the wineglass with him and stared out the window.
Emily didn’t believe in him enough to give the relationship a chance. After six days. He winced. When he considered it that way, her refusal spoke of simple common sense.
Maybe he just wasn’t meant to be happy. Maybe the emotion was simply impossible for him. Maybe somehow Emily sensed that and ran before she got infected with the gray fog that shrouded him.
But the hope had gotten to him. Made him think he had found his home with her. When he’d cradled her in his arms, he’d felt peace seep into his bones. It was what he’d sensed seven years ago.
He’d made millions ... no, billions of dollars since then. And it was doing him absolutely no good in this situation. So what the hell had been the point?
He’d done it to try to ward off the emptiness. To surround himself with so many things that he might finally feel secure. But now he understood that it hadn’t worked.
Now that he’d felt the real deal, he knew what he was missing. He turned and hurled the wineglass toward the fire, watching it splinter against the marble mantelpiece, the shards clinking like glass rain onto the hearth.
Then he dropped his head into his hands and let out a long, low moan.
