A Virgin for His Prize(6)
Something he should have paid closer attention to before making his offer to her. He should have realized that the reason her sex life was never speculated on in the media was because she didn’t have one.
That innocence wasn’t going to leave her open to the kind of liaison Maxwell was used to negotiating with his lovers.
Which meant that if he wanted Romi, and the year apart had shown him that at present no one else would suffice, he would have to figure out a different arrangement.
One they could both live with.
If his plans included a measure of what he thought might well be irresistible persuasion, well, his honor didn’t require a level playing field.
Winning was key. Full stop.
CHAPTER TWO
“AND YOU FOUND that intriguing?” Romi demanded.
Max was amused by the fact she and Madison weren’t known for their sexual promiscuity, no doubt following that particular line of reasoning to its correct conclusion. They weren’t known for it because they’d never been sexually promiscuous.
The most experience Romi had in that regard had been with Max himself.
“Not so much, no.” Max actually managed to look more or less abashed. “It brought to light some home truths. That’s all.”
“What do you mean?” Like she didn’t know.
He had worked it out. If there had been anything to write about her or Madison’s sex life, media vultures would have done it. Therefore there was nothing to write about.
Max’s gorgeous features twisted with a cynical smile. “Do you really want me to spell it out for you?”
“Maybe not.” Romi stifled a sigh, the certainty that she spent a little too much of her life avoiding those home truths he was talking about pricking at her until it drew blood.
She wanted to talk about the reason her nonexistent lovers were never discussed in the media even less than she wanted to discuss her father’s deteriorating condition. Even with Maddie. If Romi pretended everything was okay, maybe it would be.
The fact that she spent a great deal of her waking hours trying to right injustices and excesses of the world she lived in, but could not face her own family’s brokenness, did not escape her.
“What is the matter?” Max asked in a tone she would have called genuine concern from anyone else.
From him? It probably indicated that moment his inner shark smelled blood in the water.
“Nothing.”
“That is not true.”
“Does it matter?” she asked with a heavy dose of skepticism.
He adjusted her closer. “Yes.”
They were just standing there. No enemies, or even pernicious media in sight. And yet, his big, handsome body felt like a shield between her and the rest of the world. That was one of the most dangerous things about Maxwell Black: how safe she felt in his presence.
He was a full-on predator, but he made her feel protected.
Talk about a rich and active fantasy life.
“Why?” Why would her feelings make any difference to him?
How could they? She wasn’t anything to him. Not anything at all.
His pewter gaze trapped hers. “You matter to me.”
“No. I don’t believe you.” As a potential bed partner she might have had some value, but they hadn’t been anything like friends.
“You will.”
“What? Wait…” He was talking like they had a future.
“You look confused, my sweet little activist.”
“I’m not your anything.” And if she needed reminding as much, or more, than he did, well…she wasn’t admitting anything out loud.
“Aren’t you?”
“No.”
“So, you’ve been dating.”
She opened her mouth to say of course she had, but couldn’t force word one of the untruth past her lips. Romi might be a professional at avoidance, but tongue-tied only began to describe what happened to her when she tried to tell a bald-faced lie.
Especially to people she cared about. Prevaricate? Yes. Obfuscate? Definitely. Sidestep? She had the full bag of tricks. Out-and-out lie? Not a chance.
“My dating life is none of your business.”
“You don’t have one.”
“So you say.” Right. Turn it back on him without confirming or denying. She would have a made a good spy.
Except for that whole “inability to lie” thing.
“I do say. Name one man you have dated since you turned down my offer.”
She glared up at Max, wanting so much just to pull a name out of the air. Any name. But she could not do it.
It just wasn’t in her. Her dad said she got that trait from her mother. Romi wished she could remember Jenna Grayson, but she’d only been three when her mom died.
“I bet you could name a hundred.” Redirection was her friend.