Page 14 of Risk It All
“Can we get back to this trip? I'd like time to wash up and eat breakfast before we catch our connection to Abuja.”
“Madeleine,” Eleanor starts, but doesn't finish. Instead she sighs. “His name is David Richards. Here's his number. I'll type it in the chat box so you can be sure to get it right.”
I take out my notebook and a pencil to write down David's information.
“Don't hesitate to call him if you need help.” Eleanor's eyes narrow. “I mean it, Madeleine. I know you see yourself as some journalistic Indiana Jones, but you could get hurt. You could get Max hurt. Don't take unnecessary chances.”
I nod, even though my stomach clenches at the thought of being responsible for Max's safety. Not that it's a new concept. I’ve known from the beginning that I'm leading him into unstable territory. But all of a sudden it feels real. His help is crucial to right so many wrongs, but he won't be able to help if he's captured or killed.
“And you.” Eleanor gives Max a pointed look. “When this is done, take her on a real date. I think you'll both need it.”
“I can do that.” Max smiles, turning his captivating gaze back on me.
I ignore him and the shiver of sensation that runs through me at the idea of a date with Max. In many ways, that would be even more dangerous than this trip. He's not wrong that he'd be hurt. Most men seem to be when they learn I'm not going to give up my work or wanderlust for them. What he's wrong about is thinking I wouldn't be hurt too.
I say my goodbyes, log off the computer, and stand, all without a glance to Max.
“Let's find some food.” I stuff my notebook back into my pack.
At first, I think, or maybe it's hope, that Max won't say anything about the bizarre conversation with my aunt. But once we're seated in the airport cafe with coffee and a pastry, he looks at me with those dazzling blue eyes and I know he's going bring up a conversation I don't want to have.
“I think Eleanor is playing matchmaker.”
“Hmm.” I stir creamer in my coffee, purposefully avoiding looking at him.
“I'll try not to be insulted that the idea of a date with me is offensive to you.”
I sigh. How is it that I keep coming out of these conversations looking like a bitch? “It's not offensive, it's just . . .”
He waits as I try to find the right words. Words that won't make it sound like I think he's a player, an idea that seems to bother him.
“Remember when I said 'it's me, not you?'”
He nods.
“I wasn't just saying that. Itisme. I'm a dating disaster.”
He snorts, trying to rein in a laugh.
“It's not funny.” God, I hope I'm not pouting.
“No. It's not,” he agrees. “But I don't believe it. A smart, brave, fierce woman like you?”
He didn't say beautiful when he listed my attributes. It was the first time a man appreciated me for something other than my looks, money, or family connections. Dammit, he's being perfect again.
“That's exactly what makes me a dating disaster. Oh, men say they like feisty, intelligent, independent women, but they don't. Not really. Eventually they want me to keep my opinions to myself or to stop travelling and stay home to write fluff pieces and be their arm candy.”
“Is that what Chase Elliott wanted?”
So, he knows about Chase. I wonder just how much of my history with Chase he knows. Had Eleanor filled him in?
“No.” That's all I plan to say about that. The truth is that Chase didn't seem to mind my opinions or that I traveled a lot. For a short time, I had begun to think he was the ideal man for me. But then I discovered the truth about him and it had brought me to my knees. I vowed right then that I'd never commit to a man again. Not even one like Max who appears genuine and follows up his words with actions.
Max waits for me to respond. Even though I don't expand on my answer, he waits. He sits back, wipes his mouth with his napkin, and continues to stare at me with those piercing blue eyes.
“I'm not Chase Elliott.”
In those words, Max is telling me that he's interested in more than being my partner on this trip. And there's a growing part of me that's interested in him. But the practical side of me tells me it won't work. Max could be the most wonderful, perfect man in the world, but in the end, he’s right about ending up hurt, because I'm not the settling down type of woman. Not anymore.
