A Conflict of Interest (13 page)

“Back off,” Max warned Jake, stepping away.

“Come on, Max. I didn’t think you’d—”

“Care?” Max barked, turning to glare at Jake.

“Go off the deep end.”

“I’m not off the deep end. I’m going to kill the son of a bitch with my bare hands, but I’m not off the deep end.”

“I couldn’t care less about what you do to some nameless guy. But I’m a little worried about Cara.”

“Don’t worry about Cara,” said Max. He wasn’t angry with Cara. Okay, so maybe he was angry with her. But he wasn’t furious with her. He wanted an explanation. And then he wanted to kill someone. And then he wanted to make her forget every other man on the planet.

“I
am
worried,” said Jake.

“I’m not going to hurt Cara.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Of
course
you’re not going to hurt her. I don’t want you upsetting her. I don’t want you yelling at her. Gillian told me this in confidence.”

Max let out a cold laugh. “Well, you blew that, buddy. Because there’s no way in hell I’m going to pretend I don’t know.”

“Yeah.” Jake sighed. “And there was no way in hell I was going to keep it from you.” Then Jake gave his head a sad shake. “I really hate to blow my chances with her. I haven’t found one single thing I don’t like about her.” His gaze moved to Gillian and her ring of admirers. “Not one single thing.”

Max spat out a pithy swearword. He hated compromising his best friend, but he had no choice here. “I gotta ask her.”

“I know you do.” Jake looked resigned. “Just don’t make it any worse than it has to be, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Max promised. His feet were already in motion, carrying him across the vast concrete floor toward Cara. He honestly didn’t know what he was going to do.

His brain was swirling, his emotions raw, by the time he got to Cara and the vice president.

“I’m sorry,” he told the man, voice carefully controlled. “I’m afraid we’re running late.”

Without giving Cara a moment to react, Max linked her arm in his and all but dragged her away.

“What?” she sputtered, struggling to get her feet sorted out beneath her. She glanced behind them, then she looked up at Max. “Slow
down.
”

“Sorry.” He measured his pace but kept them on course for the exit.

“Where are we going? What are you doing? What about everyone else?”

“We have to talk.”

“About what?”

“Not here.”

“Max,” she demanded.

“Gillian can ride back with Jake.”

There were three NCN production vehicles still sitting in the parking lot outside. Max was taking one for him and Cara. He didn’t much care how the others worked it out.

“They had a date last night,” he said to Cara. “Did you know they had a date last night?”

“I know they went to a club after dinner.” There was confusion in Cara’s tone. “Did something happen? Is something wrong? Gillian said she had a good time.”

“Nothing happened.” But something was terribly, horribly wrong.

Outside in the hot parking lot, Max swung open the passenger door to one of the SUVs.

Cara shook off his hand, turning to face him. “Why are you doing this? What’s wrong?”

“Get in.”

“I’m not getting in.”

“Get in, Cara. We need to talk.”

She glared at him a moment longer, but then something in her expression faltered. She paled a shade, then she gave a shaky nod and got into the vehicle without another argument.

It seemed like she’d figured it out, knew that he knew. He sure hoped she was ready to explain herself. Not that any explanation would be satisfactory. They might not have come out and said it, but given all that had happened between them, it was absolutely unconscionable that she should be with another guy.

A fresh wave of anger rolled over Max as he stomped around the front of the SUV, nearly ripping off the driver’s door.

Another guy.

Another guy?

What the hell was the
matter
with her?

He stabbed the key into the ignition and tore out of the parking lot, heading down the deserted, industrial road toward the mountain drive.

“Max,” Cara began in a small, shaky voice.

“Don’t,” he warned her. “I can’t talk about this and keep us on the road at the same time.”

She fell quiet, her fingertips going to her temples.

Max took the curves as fast as he dared. It wasn’t until they’d climbed several thousand feet, leaving the city behind, that he pulled off onto a narrow dirt road. He took them far enough that they wouldn’t be disturbed, pulled onto a narrow track and stomped on the brakes, rocking the vehicle to a halt.

He shoved it in Park, killed the engine and set the brake. Silence closed in around them, and he could hear the thump of his own heart.

“Max,” she tried again.

He turned in his seat and held up a finger to silence her. “Who is he?” he rasped.

She blinked in apparent confusion.

“Who is he?” Each syllable cut through his throat like broken glass.

Cara was shrinking back against the passenger door. “Who is who?” Her voice had turned to a dry rasp.

“I want to kill him, Cara.” Max smacked his palm on the steering wheel. “Heaven help me, I want to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze.”

She swallowed convulsively. “Who?”

“The guy. Whoever he is. Whatever guy you’ve been with—” Max couldn’t bring himself to say any more. He turned to face the windshield, gripping hard on the steering wheel.

Long moments went by in silence.

The wind whistled outside, the odd bird sounding in the distance.

He realized he couldn’t do this. He was too angry right now. Whatever Cara had done, whatever her motivation, he needed to calm himself down before they talked about it. This wasn’t fair to her.

“I’m sorry,” he managed, reaching for the key.

“Max, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Gillian,” he admitted. Then he turned to look at her again. He didn’t want to make things worse for Jake, but the dishonesty had to stop somewhere. “Gillian told Jake you’d been with another guy. It made me angry. Too angry for us to have this conversation.”

“Gillian?” Cara’s voice was barely a squeak.

“She told him in confidence. He broke that confidence. He thought I should know.” Max looked her square in the eyes. “And he was right. I should know. I don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me.” He felt his anger rising all over again. “Hell, I don’t know why you would have done it.”

Cara blinked rapidly, her eyes taking on a bright sheen. “Max, I—”

“You don’t have to explain.” He hadn’t meant to make her cry. He fought for calm again. He was heartsick but calmer now. And he knew he had to answer for his outburst.

“Gillian shouldn’t have said that.” A single tear escaped from Cara’s bright blue eyes, streaking down in the sunshine that illuminated her face.

Despite everything, the tear ripped at his heart. He couldn’t breathe. He could barely speak. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

She drew a shaky breath. “There was no other guy.”

“Don’t lie. Please, just stop talking. I couldn’t stand it if you lied to me.”

She swiped the back of her hand across her damp cheek. “There was no other guy, Max.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He wanted to believe her. He so very desperately wanted to believe her. And she looked sincere. She looked sincere and fragile and more beautiful than ever.

“There hasn’t been any other guy since I’ve been with you. Since before I was with you. Since about a year before I was with you.”

Hope flickered inside Max.

She reached out and touched his arm. “Gillian was wrong. She must have misunderstood something... Maybe something I said.”

Anger and despair shuddered their way in waves out of Max’s body. “Are you serious?”

“Nobody but you, Max.” She gave a watery smile. “Nobody but you.”

Max couldn’t resist. He couldn’t stop himself. He reached for her, pulling her across the seat, setting her in his lap, pushing back her hair, stroking her soft cheeks with his thumbs as he bent to kiss her mouth.

Her sweet taste invaded him as relief poured through him. He parted her lips, delving deep, tasting and possessing her essence. He inhaled her scent, felt the softness of her skin on his fingertips and the slight weight of her bottom against his lap.

He was instantly aroused and kissed her again, deeper this time. She kissed him back, a purring sound forming in her throat as her arms encircled his neck. The coolness of her fingers soothed the heat of his skin. The last vestige of his temper vanished, replaced by a driving need to make love to her.

His hands moved to her rib cage, sliding upward, thumbs beneath her round breasts. He plucked at her buttons, freeing her blouse, cupping his palm over the smooth satin of her bra.

She squirmed in his lap.

“Cara,” he groaned, wishing she’d protest or smack him away, something, anything to slow this down.

A primal need had hijacked his brain. She was his, his,
his.
There was no way he was going to stop on his own.

But she wasn’t slowing this down. Her hands were on his shirt, releasing his buttons. Between kisses, she gasped for breath. Then she tipped her head back, her teeth biting down on her lip.

He kissed her exposed neck, drawing the succulent skin into the heat of his mouth. Her breasts were soft under his hand, the nipples beading against his palm. His body was on autopilot, free hand reaching beneath her skirt, tugging at her panties, stripping them off.

He touched her, and she groaned, thighs twitching, parting. She moved to straddle him, and her skirt bunched up around her hips.

He drew back an inch, staring into her eyes. They breathed deeply in unison, neither of them saying a word.

He reached for his slacks, unfastening, loosening, until there was no barrier between them.

“Only you,” she whispered, the sheen back in her eyes.

“Oh, Cara.” He pressed inside her, all rational thought flying from his brain.

Her hot body closed around him, and his hips flexed. He spread his fingers into her hair, bracing her for his kiss, opening wide, delving deep. Her fingernails dug into his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him, crushing her breasts against his bare chest.

He measured his rhythm, desperate to make it last. He ran his hand across her stomach, along her thighs, to the tender spot behind her knee.

Then he retraced the route, savoring her smooth, soft heat. She gasped at his touch, then moaned softly, pressing herself against his caress.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, increasing his pace. “So incredibly off-the-charts beautiful.”

A haze moved through his brain, the world disappearing. Nothing mattered but Cara. Nothing ever would.

“Max,” she cried, her breathing turning to quick pants.

“Yes,” he groaned, speeding up, struggling to drag oxygen into his own lungs.

Her body stiffened then contracted around him.

“Oh, yes,” he gasped, letting himself launch into endless waves of blissful oblivion.

Sounds came back first, the birds and the rustle of the leaves outside. Then came the sweet scent of Cara. Max opened his eyes and blinked against the bright sunshine, waiting for her gorgeous face to come back into focus. Inside the car, the air was stifling and she was slick against his skin.

“Can you breathe?” he asked her.

“Barely.”

He managed to flick the ignition key to the accessory setting and press the buttons for the front windows. A welcome breeze flowed over them.

“Thanks.” She smiled, pushing back her damp bangs.

He couldn’t help but grin, kissing her playfully on the tip of the nose. “You are more than welcome.” He paused, sobering. “Anytime.”

Her smile also disappeared. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” he acknowledged.

They both went silent, but neither of them moved.

“I didn’t plan this,” Max told her. It wasn’t an apology. He wasn’t sorry. But he didn’t want her to think he’d driven her into the woods to make love.

“I don’t know what to do,” she responded in a small voice.

He wasn’t sure what she meant. “Right now?”

Her tone was searching. “Always before, I thought I knew. I might not have liked it, but I knew what it was I was supposed to do.”

Her gaze studied his. “But we can’t date. We sure can’t have an affair.” She gave a helpless little laugh. “And every time we try to stay away from each other...”

“Fate intervenes?” he offered.

“I don’t think we can call this fate.”

“I think we can call it anger,” he admitted. Then he touched his forehead to hers. “I was so angry, Cara. We might not be officially dating but, apparently, you can’t sleep with any other man without me losing it.”

“I’m not.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You didn’t do anything.”

Unexpectedly, her arms wound around his neck.

He wrapped his own around her waist and held her close.

“I don’t know what to do,” she told him again, a catch to her voice.

He stroked his palms up and down her bare back. “You don’t have to decide right now. We shouldn’t decide right now. We can’t.”

“We have to do something.”

“I’ll finish the show, and you’ll do your job.” He eased back to look at her. “You are amazing.”

“I’m a mess.” She gave a nervous laugh, wiping her fingertips under her eyes, ineffectually rubbing at her smeared makeup.

Her hair was mussed, her clothes askew. Her cheeks were bright red, and she was covered in a dewy glow in the soft sunshine. He wanted her again already.

But he forced himself to close her blouse, fastening the buttons before he could change his mind.

“We’re professionals,” he told her. “We’ll finish our work here, and we’ll go back to D.C. And we won’t decide anything, one way or the other, until we have time to think.”

He sounded far more confident than he felt. Because he couldn’t see any way forward, but he also couldn’t see himself giving her up.

* * *

Gillian all but hauled Cara over the threshold into her hotel suite. “What happened? Where did you go? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”