Page 23 of Forbidden Hawaiian Nights
Max, still struggling to hang on to his self-control after too much introspection, and way too much interest in a woman who should be no more than another employee, was more brusque than intended when he replied. ‘Repeat—I don’t do anything because I feel obliged to. Tell me what you want to eat.’
‘I could make something.’
‘Italian food? French food? Chinese food? Name it.’
‘But Max…’
He’d flipped his phone out and gave her an enquiring, impatient look.
‘Okay…anything. Chinese food.’
It took him under five minutes to instruct his dedicated driver to fetch the food as soon as possible. The conversation was brief. He simply told the guy to put a call in to the restaurant with the best Chinese cuisine in the city, give his name and ask them to bring enough to feed two generously.
It never failed to impress Mia just how much money talked. She knew the restaurant the driver would order the food from and they didn’t do take away. But he would get one without any trouble because he was obscenely rich. Rich enough to buy the restaurant. Rich enough to have the luxury of never doing anything he didn’t want to do because he felt compelled.
The air he breathed and the world he lived in were far removed from hers. He’d arranged that they meet at his partly-built hotel so that she could walk him through some of Izzy’s ideas. Instead, here he was in her home, bandaging her ankle, and she wondered if he resented the call on his time.
‘I’m sorry…’ she began awkwardly.
He had returned to his original position on one of the wide, squashy chairs and now he tilted his head to one side and looked at her questioningly.
‘Are you going to apologise for my being here?’ he asked drily. ‘Because, if you are, then it will turn out to be a replay of the conversation where you tell me that I didn’t have to, and I can’t be bothered to repeat my response to you.’
‘You might have had plans for the evening,’ she mumbled.
‘My plans were to work.’
‘You must miss your…er…life in England.’ Somehow he’d ended up knowing a great deal about her and she wanted to find out something about him. Was that so unusual? Here they were, and the circumstances had shifted the normal barrier between them. She felt less like his employee and more like just another person.
Besides, they had to talk about something. It would be a disaster if they just sat and stared at one another in agonising silence, while her vivid imagination had a laugh at the expense of her common sense.
She hadn’t been with a guy on her own for a long time.
The handful of dates she’d been on had been conducted with the buzz of anonymous chaperones all around, people coming and going on the beach, or in a bar or in a busy restaurant.
A sense of intimacy feathered through her, playing with her nerves and unpicking her composure, which had been pretty thin to start with.
‘Which bit in particular are you talking about?’
Mia shrugged. ‘You must have quite a busy social life. I mean…’ she gave a smile that was a mix of reassuring, mildly interested and screamingly polite ‘…you’ve quizzed me about my youthful adventure with Kai but I don’t even know whether there’s someone back there in England waiting for you!’ She shook her head with rueful apology and laughed. ‘I guess you must be involved with someone and, if so, then I can only apologise for the fact that you’re having to stay here longer than you’d anticipated.’
Outside, the steady pounding of the rain was like a background symphony.
‘Why would you assume that I might be involved with someone?’ Max eventually asked and this time, when she smiled, it was more genuine.
‘Because…you’re the kind of guy I guess certain types of women would be attracted to…’
‘Certain types of women?’ His eyebrows shot up and Mia blushed.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.’ But what she had meant to do was deflect him from any suspicion that she might be one of those women.
‘Firstly, you really need to stop apologising, and secondly, it would take a great deal more than that to offend me. I’m curious, however, to know what these certain types of women might be like.’
Mia bristled because she could tell that he was mocking her. However, she’d started the conversation, and now couldn’t see a way of abandoning it. Besides, why not be honest? She was curious. Did he have a type? All men had a type. What was his? It was shameful just how curious she was.
‘Sophisticated,’ she said, head to one side, frowning in thought while surreptitiously watching him.
There was only one light on in the room and the mellow glow emphasised the harsh beauty of his features. He was so achingly perfect, from the curve of his sensual mouth to the brooding intensity of his deep navy, almost black eyes. He had one hand on his thigh and his legs were spread apart, inviting her to look at the way his jeans were pulled taut across muscular thighs.
