The Billionaire Boss's Innocent Bride(12)

She was running, in her mind. Running away from a powerful attraction to   him that was threatening to overwhelm her, threatening to explode like   wild fire through her veins.                       
       
           



       

She sipped her fragrant tea, then laid her head back. How could it have   happened in such a short time, though? She barely knew him-but a part  of  her mind mocked her as she thought that. Because the fact of the  matter  was, she apparently absorbed the essence of Max Goodwin through  her  pores.

And it wasn't only his physique or those austere good looks either. She   enjoyed his company. Sitting beside him at lunch today had seen her,   surprisingly, forget all about her feelings of ill-use. Even as she'd   had to concentrate, it had been an experience to savour. She'd   appreciated his quick wit and she had to acknowledge he had a   charismatic side to him that was fascinating and not only to her. But   the physical had touched her too: his hands, the way he put his head on   one side and propped his jaw on his fingers when he was in  contemplation  mode-why should that affect her physically? she wondered.  Give her a  little frisson down the length of her spine? Yet it had …

Then the curious encounter she'd just left behind her, when the feel of   his fingers on her ankle had brought her a bouquet of sensations, a   flowering of feelings that gave every intimation of heart-stopping   delight.

It had never happened to her before, partly, no doubt, because she'd   never let any man get really close to her, but had that lulled her into a   false sense of security, so to speak? Had she come to doubt her   capacity for these feelings?

She rubbed her forehead and thought suddenly of Paul O'Hara. It was hard   not to feel vaguely complimented by his unspoken admiration, she  mused.  And he'd been a pleasant lunch companion, well spoken, well  read, witty  at times, and there was obviously a rapport between him and  Max, but it  had drawn no similar response from her other than rather  liking him.  Paul's almost instantaneous attraction to her had reminded  her of her  father, though, she realized with her lips curving into a  smile. He'd  always claimed he'd seen her mother's profile at a crowded  New Year's  Eve party and fallen in love with her before he'd even been  able to  battle his way to her side.

But there was also the concern she'd seen twice now in Paul O'Hara's   gaze; something seemed to tell her it was concern for her. Yes, possibly   over a twisted ankle today, but yesterday there'd been that question   mark, the definite question mark, about her relationship with Max   Goodwin.

She went still as it occurred to her that, as part of the family, Max's   cousin probably knew better than most that Max and Cathy would never  get  over each other.

But they'd been apart for six years, hadn't they? And not that long ago   he'd claimed he hadn't even thought about her for a long time.

She stared out of the window unseeingly. On the other hand, he hadn't   married anyone else in six years and, surely, if there was a significant   woman in his life she'd be part of these social functions for the   Chinese consortium delegation?

She shook her head and forced herself to concentrate on what was the   crux of the matter for her-if Max Goodwin was not for her, she'd learnt   one thing in life painfully well and it was that losing people you  loved  could be agonizing. Even four years on she remembered all too  well the  sudden void in her life brought on by the loss of her parents.  The  disbelief, the certainty that it was a nightmare, and the way  she'd  expected them to walk through the door for months and months. The   loneliness, the panic attacks because you were so alone.

Her Mother Superior's passing had not been so completely unexpected, but   it hadn't been a long illness, and then that terrible void again that   had reminded her so much of the first one.

And surely Max Goodwin had all the hallmarks of not being for her …

She moved restlessly and thought, It's not only that.

Apart from those few fleeting moments when she'd thought she'd sensed   something between them, he'd given no other sign he'd been struck by   this strange fever, this unquenchable thirst …

She had to smile slightly at her flowery imagery, but it was a wistful   little smile all the same. And she found herself wondering if there was a   current woman in his life, perhaps not significant but … ?

She sat up and put her cup down as she heard sounds indicating that   Nicky and Nemo had returned from the beach. She would have to be very   careful there. Bad enough to have his father clutch her heartstrings,   but both of them!

So, yes, it could be well and truly said that she was running away.   She'd just have to be less obvious about it. She'd have to be on guard,   but at least for the next three days she could also be her practical,   down-to-earth self.                       
       
           



       

She didn't meet Max again until dinner.

She hadn't planned on eating alone with him, but when she'd suggested to   the housekeeper that she might eat with the rest of the staff, the  idea  had been knocked smartly on the head.

She was told that Mr Goodwin had ordered dinner for seven-thirty, with   Miss Hill. They were seated on the terrace at a small table. The larger   tables had been cleared away and the clear plastic blinds had been   lowered to keep out the cool night air. The lights on the jetty were   reflecting in the indigo waters beyond and two flaming braziers lit the   steps down to it.

They were consuming another elegant meal, seafood chowder followed by a   veal and mushroom casserole-Alex had the feeling that nothing less than   elegant and delicious was ever served in this house.

'How did you get on with Nicky after I brought him back from the beach?'   Max queried and looked around with a grimace. 'It's very quiet and   peaceful.' Max's hair still looked wind-ruffled, Alex noted.

'Fine. We drew and coloured in-he's very artistic. We played Snakes and   Ladders and Snap and that took us up to his supper time.' She smiled   suddenly. 'He requested fish fingers, to the horror of your   housekeeper-she didn't have any-

but in the end he was perfectly happy with fresh fish and home-made chips.'

Alex paused and laid down her knife and fork to raise her wine glass to   her lips. After she'd sipped the golden liquid, she added, 'His  previous  nanny, if not his grandmother or his mother, seems to have  instilled a  good routine. By seven o'clock, after we took Nemo for a  walk, he was  ready for bed with no fuss, no bother.' She paused again.  'He calls you  Max.'

Max Goodwin studied her thoughtfully. Gone were the elegant outfits-she   was back to ultra-casual: jeans and a jumper. Gone also was any   semblance of makeup, although she hadn't been able to restore her hair   to its former unmanageable, mousey knot. And her glasses were back on.   But without the layers of extra clothing she'd worn the first time he'd   met her, her lean, slim lines were evident and easy on the eye. He even   caught himself on the thought that it was a pity those long, slim,   gorgeous legs were covered up …

'Yes,' he said. 'There seemed to be a bit of difficulty with Dad, so I suggested it.'

Alex glanced at him, then resumed eating her veal. 'How did you get on with him?'

she asked presently.

Max Goodwin pushed his plate away. 'He's disconcertingly like me in some ways.'

'That's not so surprising,' she said with a humorous little look and couldn't help herself asking, 'What way, particularly?'

Max stared towards the braziers and Alex followed the line of his gaze   to watch their pale smoke wreath against the navy sky and to see the   hearts of the orange flames resemble molten gold. 'He doesn't take much   on trust.'

'Do you think she, his mother-?' She stopped and looked down at her plate.

'What?' he queried, returning his gaze to her.

'Nothing,' she murmured, and pushed her own plate away. 'That was   delicious. Would it be too much to hope one isn't about to be tempted by   a dessert you simply can't refuse?'

'Do I think his mother-what, Alex?'

'Look, it's none of my business.'

'You've told me that before, but you are virtually replacing her and we   have spent several hours now, you and I, virtually joined at the hip.'

She looked up to see him watching her with a noticeable spark of irony   in his eyes. She took a little breath. 'That doesn't mean to say-'