Page 92 of All I Want for Christmas

He looked angry, and she braced as he wove his waytowards them, bridging the gap until finally he was right there.

‘Max—’ Otto began in a pleasant tone.

‘What is she doing here, Otto?’ he asked bluntly. ‘Her name isn’t on the list.’

Darcy swallowed, feeling pushed back by his abrupt words. No hello, obviously.

‘I asked her,’ Otto replied. ‘Martine has a sprained ankle and cannot stand. Darcy kindly obliged by stepping in atveryshort notice.’

Max swallowed, as if recovering himself a little. ‘I’m sorry to hear that; I hope she recovers quickly—’

‘Thank you.’

‘...But obviously there are security protocols in place with the guest list tonight, and as the chair of the event—’

‘I’m aware that this puts you in a difficult position, but there wasn’t any time to inform you beforehand. I thought it better, under the circumstances, that we have a full table than a glaring omission. And as Darcy is a member of the team who is currently working closely with the Madsen Foundation, I felt certain you would be comfortable with the last-minute switch.’

Darcy bristled, hating that her presence here somehow rested on Max’s say-so. If she’d had any idea – ‘I can just go, Otto,’ she said quietly, lowering her chin. ‘I don’t need to be here.’

‘Yes, you do,’ Otto said quickly. ‘It would be a breach of etiquette to have unfilled tables in front of the King and Queen. And besides, it isn’t an issue. If Max trusts you enough to give you unrestricted access to his own home, why should you taking a seat at a table here be cause for concern?’

He was talking to her, but they all knew the question wasdirected at Max. It was patently clear that Darcy posed no threat to the guests of honour. He just didn’t want her there, his objections personal and not professional.

She remembered their sharp exchange at the gallery yesterday morning. He had no right to be angry with her – wasn’t that the very accusation he’d thrown at her on his steps? – and yet from the way he was looking at her now, it clearly had riled him. She stared back, seeing that any attempt at a fragile amity had completely fallen away; he no longer cared if she hated him. Their efforts to be ‘professional’ had failed and there was only hostility left.

To her surprise, she wasn’t sorry. That felt more solid to hold onto, somehow. Pretending they could be anything otherwise had been an exhausting charade.

‘We’re here tonight to raise money for the Children’s Hospital – and apparently to enjoy ourselves,’ Otto said, his gaze flitting questioningly between the two of them as their stare-off persisted. ‘So why don’t we do that?’

‘Here you are,’ a voice purred, and Max was accosted by a woman who was neither Angelina nor Natalia coming to stand by his shoulder. She had deeply tanned skin, as if she was straight off Ipanema Beach, and was wearing a gold silk dress so tight and skimpy, Darcy could see she had a belly button piercing. She was stunning – and vaguely familiar. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you.’

Max’s jaw pulsed with irritation. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, not looking sorry in the least as he inclined his head back fractionally towards her, his eyes still never leaving Darcy. It was like standing in his kitchen last Sunday night all over again, but this time, she refused to look away. Another night, another woman? He was pathetic. He had been a bully in Margit’s office the other day. He had ridden roughshod over hermoment of celebration. Nothing and no one mattered to him. Over and over again, he had told her what he was; he had showed her – but only now did she believe him. She wouldn’t hide her contempt.

The woman’s hand grazed up his arm, stroking it. ‘...They told me to tell you they’re ready,’ she said in an almost intimate voice. ‘They want everyone to take their seats.’

‘Right.’ But he still didn’t move.

The woman frowned and followed his stare, her gaze dragging down over Darcy’s gown as she recognized it for the designer trophy it was. ‘Great dress,’ she said, without warmth.

‘Thank you...Yours is beautiful too. You look just like a model,’ Darcy replied, flatly.

‘I am.’ The woman’s beautiful hazel eyes narrowed slightly.

‘Really?’Darcy breathed, sarcasm dripping from the word. She deliberately didn’t look at Max, though she felt the flare of anger from him. He knew precisely the point she was making.

Otto reached for her arm. ‘Come. If there are no further objections, we’ll take our seats,’ he said stiffly. ‘We all know how tightly this needs to run to schedule tonight...Good luck, Max.’

He quickly led her away, back into the safety of the crowd.

‘Whatis going on between the two of you?’ he asked, his voice so low it was almost a growl.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Darcy realized her heart was pounding from the encounter but it had felt so good to finally challenge Max. She had shown him she wasn’t a pawn to be used in his game.

‘The two of you were at each other’s throats. You looked like you loathe each other.’

She swallowed, turning away slightly. ‘I suppose we do...’

‘But why? Has something happened between you?’

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