Page 8 of The Venetian One-Night Baby

Sabrina closed her eyes when Max walked past her bed, every pore of her body aware of him. She heard the sheets being pulled back and the sound of him slipping between them. She heard the click of the bedside lamp being switched off and then he let out a sigh that sounded bone-weary.

‘I hope you don’t snore.’ The comment was out before she could stop herself.

He gave a sound that might have been a muttered curse but she couldn’t quite tell. ‘No one’s complained so far.’

A silence ticked, ticked, ticked like an invisible clock.

‘I probably should warn you I’ve been known to sleepwalk,’ Sabrina said.

‘I knew that. Your mother told me.’

She turned over so she was facing his bed. There was enough soft light coming in through the gap in the curtains for her to see him. He was lying on his back with his eyes closed, the sheets pulled to the level of his waist, the gloriously naked musculature of his chest making her mouth water. He looked like a sexy advertisement for luxury bed linen. His tanned skin a stark contrast to the white sheets. ‘When did she tell you?’

‘Years ago.’

Sabrina propped herself up on one elbow. ‘How many years ago?’

He turned his head in her direction and opened one eye. ‘I don’t remember. What does it matter?’

She plucked at the sheet covering her breasts. What else had her mother told him about her? ‘I don’t like the thought of her discussing my private details with you.’

He closed his eye and turned his head back to lie flat on the pillow. ‘Bit late for that, sweetheart.’ His tone was so dry it could have soaked up an oil spill. ‘Your parents have been citing your considerable assets to me ever since you hit puberty.’

Sabrina could feel her cheeks heating. She knew exactly how pushy her parents had been. But so too had his parents. Both families had engineered situations where she and Max would be forced together, especially since his fiancée Lydia had broken up with him just before their wedding six years ago. She even wondered if the family pressure had actually scared poor Lydia off. What woman wanted to marry a man whose parents staunchly believed she wasn’t the right one for him? His parents had hardly been subtle about their hopes. It had been mildly embarrassing at first, but over the years it had become annoying. So annoying that Sabrina had stubbornly refused to acknowledge any of Max’s good qualities.

And he had many now that she thought about it. He was steady in a crisis. He thought before he spoke. He was hard working and responsible and organised. He was a supremely talented architect and had won numerous awards for his designs. But she had never heard him boast about his achievements. She had only heard about them via his parents.

Sabrina lay back down with a sigh. ‘Yeah, well, hate to tell you but your parents have been doing the same about you.’ She kicked out the rumples in her bed linen with her feet and added, ‘Anyone would think you were a saint.’

‘I’m hardly that.’

There was another silence.

‘Thanks for letting me share your room,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t offered. I heard from other people at the cocktail party that just about everywhere else is full.’

‘It’s fine. Glad to help.’

She propped herself back on her elbow to look at him. ‘Max?’

He made a sound that sounded like a God, give me strength groan. ‘Mmm?’

‘Why did you and Lydia break up?’ Sabrina wasn’t sure why she’d asked the question other than she had always wondered what had caused his fiancée to cancel their wedding at short notice. She’d heard the gossip over the children issue but she wanted to hear the truth from him.

The movement of his body against the bed linen sounded angry. And the air seemed to tighten in the room as if the walls and ceiling and the furniture had collectively taken a breath.

‘Go to sleep, Sabrina.’ His tone had an intractable don’t push it edge.

Sabrina wanted to push it. She wanted to push him into revealing more about himself. There was so much she didn’t know about him. There were things he never spoke about—like the death of his baby brother. But then neither did his parents speak about Daniel. The tragic loss of an infant was always devastating and even though Max had been only seven years old at the time, he too would have felt the loss, especially with his parents so distraught with grief. Sometimes she saw glimpses of his parents’ grief even now. A certain look would be exchanged between Gillian and Bryce Firbank and their gazes would shadow as if they were remembering their baby boy. ‘Someone told me it was because she wanted kids and you didn’t. Is that true?’

He didn’t answer for such a long moment she thought he must have fallen asleep. But then she heard the sound of the sheets rustling and his voice broke through the silence. ‘That and other reasons.’

‘Such as?’

He released a frustrated-sounding sigh. ‘She fell in love with someone else.’

‘Did you love her?’

‘I was going to marry her, wasn’t I?’ His tone had an edge of impatience that made her wonder if he had been truly in love with his ex-fiancée. He had never seemed to her to be the falling-in-love type. He was too self-contained. Too private with his emotions. Sabrina remembered meeting Lydia a couple of times and feeling a little surprised she and Max were a couple about to be married. The chemistry between them had been on the mild instead of the wild side.

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