The Marriage Mistake(25)
She jerked back. “You didn’t want to kiss me?”
His hands shot out to grasp hers in a soothing gesture. “No, you misunderstand. Of course, I wanted to kiss you. It’s just that Max warned me and—”
“Max?” Every muscle stiffened. A roaring echoed in her ears and she shook her head to clear it. “What did Max say to you?”
Another laugh. “Nothing, really. Max just explained you’re new here, and to take it slow, and that you’re not ready for anything, well anything, well—”
“Sex?”
He dropped her hands like she scorched him. The panic was back, this time full-fledged. Carina watched her sexy make-out session wither away like a neglected plant turned into a weed. “No! I mean, of course we’re not going to have sex. Hell, Max would kill me!”
She rallied even though it was the Civil War all over again and she was definitely on the Southern side. “Max has nothing to do with me,” she stated calmly. “He’s an old friend of the family, but he doesn’t control what I do, and would never interfere with your job. If you’re interested in me, that is.”
Seconds passed. She waited. Prayed for a little gumption from this man who could be more than a first date. Longed for him to yank her back in his arms, cover her mouth with his, and declare he didn’t give a shit about Max. Instead, a slight chill formed around them that had nothing to do with the sudden rain. She’d lost.
And Max won again.
“I’m sorry, Carina.” Misery etched every feature. “I love my job, and I really, really like you. But Max made it clear you need a permanent relationship and I’m not ready for a commitment.”
She gathered up her composure and wrapped it snugly around her. With a cool smile, Carina nodded. “I understand, I really do. Thank you for a lovely evening. And don’t worry about feeling awkward in the office. Let’s be friends.”
The word stuck in the back of her throat like a glob of peanut butter but he brightened at her statement. “Yes. Friends is perfect. See you Monday.”
She slid out of the car and ran to her door. Fitting the key in the lock, she flipped on the lights and stepped inside. She peeked out the window and waited for Edward’s car to pull away. Then without missing a beat, she grabbed her keys, and ran to her car. Her hands shook as she started the ignition and put the heat on full blast to take the chill out of the air. Water dripped in a puddle on the seat, but she ignored her discomfort. Anger burned bright and clean until there was only one goal in her mind. One thing to fix the entire ridiculous disastrous night.
Kill Maximus Gray.
Chapter Six
Max listened to the steady beat of rain against the window while he sipped his cognac. The liquid danced on his tongue and licked with a fiery sweetness. Instead of soothing his nerves, his fingers clutched the snifter with agitation.
She’d been right.
Again.
As if sensing his disturbance, Rocky emitted a low mutter, blew out his breath, and resettled with the bulk of his body on Max’s feet. The comforting warmth soothed him a bit, and he dropped his hand to pet his head—a hulk of sharp bones and ugly lines that made him one of the homeliest dogs he’d ever seen in his life.
The bond had been instant when he caught sight of the battered soul at the carnival. A small booth had been devoted to giving away free puppies, and he’d passed it with his date. She’d cooed and coddled the cute balls of fur, while Max remained patient and checked out the various games. He figured if he won her one of the stuffed animals, he’d be in the perfect position for her gratefulness later. Not that there was any doubt, from the obvious comments she made as the night wore on. He’d been planning his path of success when his gaze caught on the stout, muddy pit bull at the corner of the booth. A ragged rope was wrapped around his massive neck, too tight and literally choking his breath. The dog didn’t seem to care, just measured his breath so he wouldn’t pant too much, his eyes sharp with the knowledge that this was his lot and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
His mouth hung in a droop, and drool poured from one side of his lip. Bruises matted the sides of his body. One ear was literally half chopped off. But when the dog’s eyes finally met and held with Max’s, a bone-deep knowledge that Max had to own this dog pushed all other thoughts aside. He was a fighter—both in and out of the ring. And he deserved more than this bullshit.
The kids running the puppy booth charged him one hundred dollars to carry him away. Probably would be used as a bait dog since his fighting-dog days were done. Max untied the rope, bent down, and told the dog they were going home. With a dignity known to the breed and unknown to the masses, Rocky picked himself off the dirty floor and followed him out of the carnival. Max lost his date but gained his best friend.