Within minutes they were pulling up outside a sleek modern building. Max was out of the car and holding out a hand for Darcy before she could think what to do. Knowing she couldn't escape now, she scowled and put her hand into his, let him help her out, jerking her hand away as soon as she was on her own two feet.
Max led her into a massive steel-and-chrome foyer, where huge works of modern art were hung on the walls. It was hushed and exclusive, and in spite of herself she found herself wondering what Max's apartment would be like.
With an acknowledgement to the concierge, Max led Darcy to an open lift and stabbed at the 'P' button. Of course, Darcy thought snarkily. Of course he'd be living in the penthouse.
Once in the lift she moved to the far corner. Max leaned back against the wall and looked at her from under hooded lids. 'No need to look like a startled rabbit, Darcy. I'm not going to eat you.'
'No,' she said sharply. 'Just turn my world upside down.'
CHAPTER FOUR
DARCY FOLLOWED MAX into his apartment warily. From what she could see, as he flicked on low lights, it was as sleek and modern as the building that housed it. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered astounding views of Rome glittering at night.
Her feet were sore in the high-heeled shoes, but she would let them bleed before taking them off. She was still recalling her bare feet in the office the previous night-the cocoon of intimacy and where that had led.
'Drink?'
Darcy looked over to where Max was pulling his tie out of its knot and undoing the top buttons of his shirt. He'd already taken off his jacket and he looked sinfully sexy in the waistcoat of the three-piece suit.
She shook her head. 'No. I don't want a drink, Max, and I don't want to talk. I'd like to go to some corner of the earth far away from you.'
He just shrugged, ignoring her pronouncement, and proceeded to pour himself a measure of something. He gestured to a seat. 'Please-sit down.'
Darcy clutched her bag tighter. 'I told you...I don't want to-'
'Well, tough, because we're talking.'
Darcy made a rude sound and stalked over to an uncomfortable-looking chair and sat down.
Max started to pace, then stopped and said, 'Look, I didn't plan to announce an engagement to you this evening.'
'I'm not so sure you didn't, Max. It certainly seemed to trip off your tongue very easily-along with that very inventive plan to treat me to a Devilliers ring. Tell me, are we taking your private jet?'
Max cursed before downing his drink in one and setting the glass down with a clatter.
He glared at her. 'I didn't plan it. He just... Dio. You heard him.'
Darcy's insides tightened as she recalled the sense of protectiveness that had arisen when Montgomery had baldly dissected Max's life. The truth was that no one goaded Max. He'd remained impervious in the face of much worse provocation. But this had been personal. About his family.
Darcy stood up, feeling vulnerable. 'I heard him, Max. The man clearly has strong feelings about the importance of family, but do you think he really cares if you're married or not?'
'You heard him. He believes my perspective will be skewed unless I have someone to worry about other than myself.' Max sounded bitter.
'So you fed me to him?'
He looked at her. 'Yes.'
'I'm just a means to an end-so you can get your hands on that fund.'
* * *
Max looked at Darcy. Her hair had begun to get dishevelled, falling down in tendrils around her face and neck. 'I'm just a means to an end.' Why did those words strike at him somewhere? Of course she was a means to an end-everything in his life was a means to an end. And that end was in sight.
'Yes.'
Her jaw tightened and she stepped back. Max did not like the flash of something like panic in his gut.
'Yes, you are a means to an end-I won't pretty it up and lie to you. But, Darcy, if you do this you won't walk away empty-handed. You can name your price.'
She let out a short curt laugh and it made Max wince inwardly. It sounded so unlike her.
'Believe me, no price could buy me as your wife, Max. I don't think I even like you all that much.'
Max felt that like a blow to his gut, but he gritted out, 'I'm not asking you to like me, and I'm not buying a wife, Darcy. I'm asking you to do this as part of your job. Admittedly it's a little above and beyond the call of duty...but you will be well compensated.'
Darcy tossed her head. 'Nothing could induce me to do this.'
'Nothing...?' Max asked silkily as he moved a little closer, his vision suddenly overwhelmed with the tantalising way Darcy filled out her dress.
She put out a hand. 'Stop right there.'
Max stopped, but his blood was still leaping. He'd yet to meet a woman he couldn't seduce. Was he prepared to seduce Darcy into agreement? His mind screamed caution, but his body screamed yes!
He erred on the side of caution.
Darcy's hand was still held out. 'Don't even think about it, Max. That kiss...whatever happened between us...was a mistake and it won't be happening again.'
He kept his mouth closed even as he wanted to negate what she'd said. He needed her acquiescence now.
'Everyone has a price, Darcy. You can name yours. We only need to be married for as long as it takes the deal to be done, then we'll divorce and you can get on with your life. No harm done. It's just an extension of your job, and I'll make sure that you get a job wherever you want in the world after this.'
She snorted, telling him succintly what she thought of that. She moved away from him now, stalking over to one of the big windows.
Max felt disorientated for a moment. It wasn't usual for him to bring a woman back to his apartment. He preferred to keep women out of his private space. Especially women he seduced. Because he never wanted them to get any notions.
But Darcy was here, and it felt bizarrely as if she'd been here before. He was too consumed with bending her to his will right now to look at that little nugget. Too consumed with ignoring the inferno raging in his blood as he took in her curvy silhouette against the backdrop of Rome outside.
And then she turned around, her hands still clutching her bag. 'Why is this so important to you?'
* * *
Max immediately went still, as if drawing his energy back inwards. Darcy had a moment to collect herself, to try and remove her see-sawing emotions and hormones from this situation.
As she'd looked out of the window she'd had to ask herself why the prospect of marrying Max was such a red-hot button for her. Apart from the fact that it was a ludicrous thing to ask of anyone.
After all, she came from a very broken home, so if anyone had the necessary cynicsm to embark on a marriage of convenience it was her. And she was ambitious enough to appreciate the aspect that Max wasn't exaggerating-she would have the pick of any job she wanted if she did this. It would be the least he owed her.
But she was not stupid enough to think that the way she'd felt when Max had kissed her could be ignored. He'd tapped into something untouched deep inside her-something that went beyond the physical to a secret place she'd never explored herself, never mind with anyone else.
And there was his astounding arrogance in thinking she would just go along with this decree. Like some king who expected his minions to obey his every word.
'Well, Max? If I'm to even consider this crazy idea for one second I want to know why you want this so badly.'
He seemed to glower at her for a long moment, and then he stuck his hands in the pockets of his trousers and came closer. Darcy couldn't move back because the window was behind her. He came and stood near her, looking out at the view, face tight.
'Montgomery mentioned my brother. We're twins. We were six when our parents split up and split us up. I only ever saw Luca again when he came to Rome for brief holidays or on trips to see our mother. I see him a little more frequently since we've been adults.'
Max sighed.
'He grew up being groomed to be my father's heir. There was never any question of me getting a share. That was my punishment for choosing to go with my mother...not that our father really cared which son he got as long as he had an heir to pass his corrupt legacy on to. But that's just part of it. Luca did offer me my half of his inheritance after our father died, but I didn't want it.'
He looked at Darcy then, almost accusingly.
'I didn't want his charity and I still don't. By then I'd already made my first million. I wanted to succeed on my own merit-surpass anything my father had ever done. Do it on my own. It's the one thing that's kept me going through it all. The need to know that I've done it without anyone handing me anything.'
He looked away again and Darcy was silent. Mesmerised by the passion blazing out of Max. And the unmistakable pride.