A Little Harmless Ride (29 page)

Again, she offered him a guarded look, but said nothing more as she took another sip. He understood her wariness because he knew her father. As he watched her drain her drink, his mind moved onto other things. Business mainly. His thoughts kept wandering to calling one of his distributors, meetings, his parents who were on vacation in Greece, and…Anna.

“
Max
.”

Her irritated voice pulled him out of his thoughts to focus on the matter at hand. Which was dissolving their engagement…and gaining freedom.

“
Sorry, Cynthia. My mind sort of wandered.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face, a frown tugging down the corners of her mouth. “You do that a lot, Max.” The sharp rebuke he heard in her voice was the first show of gumption he’d seen from Cynthia. The moment she said it, her face flushed and she looked down at the table. Knowing her father, who was a bastard in the first order especially when it came to Cynthia, she’d been trained never to say a word in defense of herself to a man.

“
You’re right, so you’re probably damn lucky to escape my evil clutches.”

She snorted, then covered her mouth, looking around to see if anyone noticed. It took her a moment to compose herself again.

“
I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean—”

“
No,” he said with a laugh and a wave of his hand, “don’t let it bother you. I would rather we parted as friends, wouldn’t you?”

This time, the smile she gave him reached her eyes and her dimples appeared. For a moment, her expression lightened, and he felt a completely unexpected jolt of arousal. He’d forgotten just how attractive she was. Which was sad, considering ten minutes ago he’d been engaged to her. Cynthia deserved better than that. Hell, they both did.

“
I’d like that, Max. I’d like that a lot.”

“
I think the best thing to do is show a united front. If your father gives us any problems, I’ll handle it. I promise.”

Surviving the gossip would probably kill Cynthia, and the only way to avoid that was sticking together in the ending of their engagement. Truthfully, he couldn’t care less about it, but she would be mortified by the whispers. And, in the world of dating, it would make him more of a catch if a woman could gain his attention. In their small Georgia town, dating and marriage was a debutante’s favorite blood sport. He would be a trophy to fling in Cynthia’s face.

After many reassurances that he would handle everything, and that he harbored no ill will, she left. The moment she was gone, he motioned for the waiter and ordered two fingers of whiskey. Max never drank in the middle of the day, but he felt the need to celebrate. Cold, yes, but theirs had been more a wedding of two companies than of two people.

He took a sip of whiskey, enjoying the burn as it slid down his throat. It’d been a while since he’d enjoyed a drink without the irritation of other people.

As he downed the last drops, he motioned to the waiter for another one and knew Anna would approve.

* * * *

Anna Dewinter stared at her almost ex-boyfriend and wondered why she’d started sleeping with him to begin with. Most women would jump at the chance, and into his bed. Wavy black hair and brooding blue eyes had many women comparing him to Heathcliff more than once in her presence. He did act the part of a tortured hero—when it suited his purposes. Like now as he stared at her as if his life depended on her attention. Lord knows it probably worked on the college girls he usually dated. Those little girls didn’t understand it was his ego—not his life—that depended on the attention.

She’d been attracted to him in the beginning. The sex had been…pretty good. His hands were quick and eager and he had the most amazing mouth, which had worked wonders on her pussy. But, as an artist, Brad tended toward the dramatic. Everything was either a high or a low, nothing in between. Nothing just level. It got old—fast.

Anna sipped her latte, trying to ignore her frustration, and glanced around her restaurant and coffee house, 
The Last Drop
. The lunch crowd had dwindled, but several customers lingered.

Another good month or two
…

If she kept it going, she’d be able to open that second location in Valdosta she was planning. With the college there, a storefront somewhere near the campus would clean up. She could even plan some weekend events, like maybe a few local performers or a poetry slam. The college groupies would pay a fortune for designer coffee and snacks, along with a few extras. She would make a killing.

“
Anna, are you paying attention to what I’m saying?”

Brad’s voice interrupted the thoughts of expanding her business. Guilt sent a wave of heat to her face and Anna turned her attention back to him. His bottom lip drooped into a pout. Anna sighed. She really liked him, but Brad tended to take things a little too seriously. He was too young to be so serious. Besides, they’d had some fun and now he wanted to complicate things. His eyes spoke of the pain he thought he felt. Which she knew he didn’t. Men his age—or about any age—didn’t get their feelings involved in a three-week affair.

Anna sighed again. He was 
not
 going to make this easy on her.

“
Listen, Brad, we had a good time, but I thought we weren’t going to take each other seriously.”

“
I took our relationship seriously, Anna. I can’t believe you’re dumping me.” His voice rose and several of the customers sitting close to her table looked in their direction.

“
You said you didn’t want to get serious. Your art was the only thing that mattered at the moment.”

“
Until I met you.” His voice spoke of his anguish.

She tried not to notice that more people were paying attention to them. An older couple kept glancing their way, the woman looking a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t like Anna had the best reputation in town because of her personal life, but it had never boiled over into her business. She’d be damned if it would now.

“
You said that last week.”

He paused, then leaned forward and pronounced—with much conviction, “I’ve changed.”

No, what Brad meant was he thought he’d be the one to dump her. She had stolen his thunder and if there was one thing Anna understood, it was men’s egos and how they could ruin a woman’s life. She’d been down that road before and she wasn’t ready to take the trip again.

“
It’s been fun, and we had a good time, but really, Brad, we’ve run our course.”

“
Do you care so little for my feelings?” His voice cracked on the last word.

Oh, God
. He sounded like he was going to cry. Never again. Never again would she tumble into bed with an artist. No matter how talented his hands were, how enthusiastic he was or how much she needed a good fuck, they weren’t worth the trouble. A value pack of batteries was a better deal—and a lot less trouble.

“
I care, Brad.”

And she did. She’d been drawn by his talent and his sense of humor, as well as his looks. And he was a wonderful man. But he didn’t want a long-term relationship any more than she did. He was young, and scared to move on. It was her job to give him a little push.

Anna cleared her throat and tried her best to sound soothing and not irritated. “But you said yourself you were thinking of moving up to Athens at the end of the month. I think that will be good for you.”

He stood, his frown still deep, unshed tears in his eyes, and spoke rather loudly. “I thought you cared about me, about my art.” Then he stormed out of her restaurant and, Anna hoped, out of her life.

“
That was intense.” Myra sighed dreamily as she refilled Anna’s coffee. At eighteen, Myra still thought dramatic scenes were romantic. At twenty-seven, Anna just found them aggravating and time-consuming.

She rose to her feet and allowed the tension to drain out of her as she glanced over at Myra. Short and small-boned, with fair skin, light blue eyes and pale blonde hair, Myra always reminded Anna of a fairy or water sprite.

“
Why don’t you take your break, Myra? I can handle this crowd for thirty minutes.”

Myra looked ready to agree, then something over Anna’s shoulder caught her attention.

Anna turned, annoyance boiling in her belly, sure it was Brad returning to give it one last try. When she saw Max striding toward her, all that irritation melted into warmth. Because he was her friend, her 
best
 friend, and she loved him. Like a friend.

Friends had really hot oral-sex dreams about each other—didn’t they?

She smiled. He responded with a grin that sent a wave of heat tingling along her skin. Every hormone in her body did a little jump to stand at attention. She hoped he attributed her hard nipples to the AC as she forced herself not to rub them.

“
Max, what are you doing here in the middle of the day?” Anna hugged him. The familiar scent of his aftershave, mixed with whiskey, surrounded her. Something was up, because Max never drank before five.

“
Took a long lunch.” His absent tone told Anna his mind wasn’t really on her or their conversation. “You busy?”

“
I was going to let Myra—”

“
Don’t worry, Anna. I can wait a little bit.” Myra eyed Max with her usual guarded admiration.

Myra was wary of Max. Most people were. Over six feet tall and big-boned, Max hardly ever smiled, giving the impression that he was always serious. Which was true in a lot of ways. But he did have a wicked sense of humor, drier than the Arizona desert. With his chocolate-brown eyes and wavy blond hair, Max should have looked like a big teddy bear. Dressed in a slate gray suit, a black shirt and red tie, he appeared lethal. And dangerously sexy. Oh God, was he sexy.

Anna cleared her throat. “Want something to drink?” He shook his head. “Okay. Why don’t we head on back to my office?” She grabbed her coffee and led Max to the small room behind the service counter.

Entering first, she headed for her comfy desk chair. Max closed the door behind him. When she’d taken over the restaurant a couple years ago, the tiny room had been painted gray, with much of it peeling off. She’d painted the room lavender, giving it a softer appearance, and hung a large mirror behind her desk. It helped give the illusion that the room was bigger. If she was going to be stuck handling paperwork, she wanted to make sure she didn’t feel trapped in a square box. She didn’t do well in any kind of box, square or otherwise.

Anna slid her sandals off and propped her feet on the desk, showing off her blue nail polish and the new toe ring she’d picked up in Gainesville. She took a sip of her coffee and set the mug down. “What’s up, Maxwell? You don’t take off in the middle of the day. Ever.”

“
Cynthia called off our engagement.”

Of all the things he could say, that was the last thing she expected. For a few seconds, her mind froze trying to compute what he had just told her. Then, her feet landed with a thud on the floor.

“
She
 broke it off?” The woman obviously needed some professional help. Cynthia Myers had been lucky to get a man like Max.

Max shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. One side of his full, sensuous mouth quirked and a zing of heat blazed through her. Her nipples tightened against the lace of her bra. Wet heat flooded her sex. Anna crossed her arms over her breasts.

“
Yes. She said we didn’t 
suit
.”

Anna snorted. “I told you that five months ago.”

“
No, what you said is two people as uptight as we were would drive each other crazy in a month.”

“
I also said the sex would suck. And not in a good way.”

Max chuckled and she shivered as the sound sank into her, heating her blood. The man was entirely too sexy for her well-being. He was uptight, as she had said, but something lurked beneath the surface that hinted at a darker, more sensual side. A little part of her wanted to tap into that, unleash it, and see just how wicked he could be.