Authors: Beverly Barton

Tags: #Suspense, #Contemporary romance, #Fiction

What She Doesn't Know (26 page)

BOOK: What She Doesn't Know

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Chapter 25

Jolie had nixed Max’s plans for them to share an intimate dinner in their suite. In retrospect he realized that this afternoon by the pool, he had pushed her a little too far, a little too fast. The more persistent he was in pointing out to her that the strong feelings between them wouldn’t go away simply because she wanted them to, the more she dug in her heels, determined to prove him wrong. Jolie Royale was a stubborn woman. And she was running scared. She had returned to Sumarville after a twenty-year absence, buried a father she believed had betrayed her, discovered there had been a cover-up in the double murder case involving her mother’s and aunt’s deaths, and had barely escaped being killed by a hired gunman. And in the midst of all this trauma, an unsettling desire for a man she thought she despised had stirred to life within her. He understood her confusion; he, too, realized the irony in Louis’s daughter and Georgette’s son being cursed with what seemed to be an inherited passion. He had never counted on falling for Jolie—falling so damn hard that he was totally stunned by his reaction to her.

“We’re stuck in Key West until tomorrow,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m trapped here at the hotel with you. I plan to go out and soak up some of the local nightlife.”

“I’m game if you are. What do you want to do? Where do you want to go?” he asked.

“Anywhere you’re not!”

Jolie didn’t bother saying good-bye when she left; she just walked away from him, exited their suite, and slammed the door, practically in his face. Apparently she didn’t understand that although she might run away from him, she couldn’t run away from herself. The yearning inside her wasn’t going away; if anything, the more she denied it, the stronger it would grow.

Max waited a few minutes, then followed her, doing his best to keep a discreet distance behind her. Didn’t she realize that he was not going to allow her to run around Key West alone? Any woman might be at risk, even in a semitropical paradise, but a woman as beautiful as Jolie would draw men to her like moths to a flame. And because she was so desperately afraid of her feelings for him, she might do something stupid just to prove to him and to herself that there was nothing special between them. The possessive protectiveness he felt where Jolie was concerned was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was utterly old-fashioned and perhaps a bit primitive, and God knew he hated himself for being unable to give her a wide berth, for hiding in the shadows like a conspicuous bodyguard or a scorned lover.

Max followed her north on Duval Street, where a gathering of tourists watched the incredible sunset and were entertained by musicians and carnival acts. When Jolie caught a glimpse of him half a block away, she tried her best to blend in with the crowd.

Keep on running, chère. Try your best to escape me. But no matter where you go, I will find you
.

As the last rays of sunlight melted into a swath of glorious colors across the western horizon, a piper played the hauntingly bittersweet “Amazing Grace.” Slowly but surely making his way toward Jolie, Max maneuvered around the people who were savoring the beauty of the day’s end. When he came up behind Jolie and put his arms around her, she gasped and glanced over her shoulder.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

Tension tightened her muscles; anger flashed in her blue eyes. “Stop following me.”

“Why not ask me to do something easier…ask me to stop breathing.”

A barely discernible shudder rippled through her. “Don’t. Please, don’t.” She wriggled in his arms, trying to free herself.

“Don’t what?” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “Don’t want you to the point of madness? Don’t think about holding you and kissing you and making love to you…all night long.”

She jerked away from him and ran up the street. Several people noticed her hurrying away, but when Max didn’t pursue her immediately, no one said anything to him.

Giving her a chance to put a little distance between them, Max strolled in the direction she’d fled and soon caught sight of her simple red sundress as she darted into the Margaritaville Café. Standing outside on the street, he listened to the boisterous music blaring from the live band. After allowing her enough time to settle in and feel relatively safe from him, Max entered the café, a casual Key West joint, decorated with lime green walls and an assortment of Jimmy Buffet, sailing, and tropical paraphernalia. He stayed at the bar and waited for her to order dinner; then when her meal arrived, he carried his drink to her table and joined her.

She glared at him when he sat down. “Go away, Max.”

He shrugged. “Do you think if you say it often enough, it’ll happen?”

“One lives in hope.”

He set his half-full glass aside, crossed his arms and rested them on the table, then smiled. “Yes, one does live in hope, doesn’t one?”

“Can’t you at least let me eat dinner in peace?” She glanced down at her food and then up at him.

“If you’re thinking of dumping that in my lap, don’t.”

“The thought never crossed my mind.” A mischievous grin played at the corners of her mouth.

“I’ll just bet it didn’t.”

“If you’re staying, I’m leaving.”

Max shrugged.

Jolie removed her wallet from her small shoulder bag, took out a couple of bills, and tossed them on the table. “It’s paid for. Why don’t you stay and enjoy it?” She got up and walked off.

Max grunted. A waiter rushed over, looked at Jolie’s untouched plate of food and then at Max.

“She changed her mind,” Max said. “You know how women are.”

Max got up and rushed out into the street, then grinned when he saw Jolie a block away. Not running. Not even walking fast. Didn’t she realize that he was aware of the fact that she wasn’t trying very hard to lose him? He followed her from the five hundred block of Duval Street to the two hundred block, knowing that she knew he was never more than half a block behind her.

The bright lights and loud music coming from Sloppy Joe’s invited guests to come inside and sample the legendary good times to be found within. A country and western band provided tonight’s entertainment, and when Max followed Jolie inside, he noted that the dance floor was full. He caught sight of Jolie at the bar. Nonchalantly, she glanced around the room. Their gazes collided and locked instantly. While he made his way toward her, she didn’t move and didn’t look away. She was waiting for him. But he didn’t kid himself that this meant she had given up the fight. Oh, no. He figured she’d merely changed tactics.

When he reached the bar area, he held out his hand to her and without either of them speaking, both understood the invitation. After only a moment’s hesitation, she took his hand and let him lead her into the center of the other couples on the dance floor. She went into his arms as if she longed to be there, and Max felt no reluctance in her body as he pulled her close. After resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes, and when she sighed, every soft, pliant inch of her leaned into him. All he could think about was that Jolie Royale was heaven to touch, and if just holding her in his arms gave him this much pleasure, then what would it feel like when they made love?

Jolie had been fighting a losing battle, but it wasn’t in her to give up without one last hurrah. Max was like a fire-breathing dragon, stomping through villages and destroying everything in his path as he hunted for his mate. If she were fighting only Max, then she might succeed, but she was also fighting her own needs, her own desires. If she gave him a little of what he wanted—of what they both wanted—would it be enough? She couldn’t understand why this had happened to her. Why had she fallen so hard and so fast for Max Devereaux? This was one complication she didn’t need in her life and knew he probably felt the same. But the crazy thing was she felt certain that he was as powerless as she was against the overwhelming passion that sizzled between them.

As they danced, his legs shifted against hers, his thighs solid muscle. And her tight nipples brushed lightly against his hard chest, the friction sending electrical currents from her breasts to her feminine core. Her heartbeat slowed; she relaxed. Max lifted one hand up and under her hair to gently grasp her neck. His other hand drifted down her back, across her waist and splayed across her bottom.

Lost in the crowd, Jolie felt safe. Things could only progress so far in public. A joyous sense of freedom claimed her. She could steal these moments from reality without regrets, with no harm done. For as long as the dance lasted, she could pretend that the here-and-now was all that existed. No tomorrow, when they would meet with Aaron Bendall and exchange a million dollars for the stolen Belle Rose massacre files. No yesterday, when death and betrayal had wedged an insurmountable obstacle between them.

But the music ended all too quickly, returning her to reality. She couldn’t bring herself to step out of his arms and walk away. Not yet. Every fiber of her being told her that this was where she belonged. Then, just as she forced herself to lift her head from his shoulder, the band started another melody, softer and slower than the previous one. Max tightened his hold on her neck.

“Don’t go,” he murmured. “Not yet.”

She returned her head to his shoulder and draped her arms around him. They danced one dance after another and time ceased to exist. As long as they stayed here, the fantasy didn’t have to end.

Max’s erection pressed against her, and her body responded. They were making love to each other, with every touch, every sigh and groan, every slow sweet movement of their bodies. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more, needed more.

Suddenly the music changed from slow to fast. A foot-stomping, hand-clapping song that had the customers hooting and hollering. Jolie eased away from Max, but before she could leave him, he grabbed her hand and led her straight for the exit. Once outside, the tropical breeze caressed their perspiring bodies. When Max headed them back toward their hotel, Jolie balked.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she said, using any excuse to delay the inevitable.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Just a short walk on the beach to cool us off. Please.”

“I don’t want to cool off,” he told her. “I want to heat things up even more.” He all but dragged her along the sidewalk.

She skidded to an abrupt halt. “Max, I can’t do this. I won’t.”

He grabbed her shoulders and glared at her. “We’re going back to the hotel. Now. When we get there, you can go to bed alone…or you can spend the night in my arms. Your choice.”

“I seem to have lost my ability to make logical choices,” she admitted. “If we go back to the hotel right now, I’m not sure I’ll have the strength to resist.”

He ran his hands up and down her arms, then stepped away from her and cursed under his breath. “Damn, what a thing to say to a man who’s walking around with the hard-on from hell.”

“Don’t you think I’m hurting the same way, that I want you so badly that I’m aching? But if we do this, we’ll regret it. You know we will.”

Like a flash of summer heat lightning, quick and violent, Max swooped her off her feet and up into his arms. “We’ll regret it if we don’t.” He marched up the sidewalk, heading for their hotel, which was only a block away.

“Max, what are you doing?” She flung her arm around his neck to balance herself.

“What I should have done to start with—taking what I want.”

“You’re crazy.” She wriggled, but when he threatened to drop her, she stilled instantly. “If you think this caveman tactic is going to work with me, then buster, you’d better think again.”

“Well, it works for me, and right now, my satisfaction is all I’m thinking about.”

Max carried her through the empty lobby and into the cagelike elevator that took them up to their suite. Somehow he managed to unlock the door and get inside without much effort. The sitting room between their bedrooms lay in semidarkness, only the golden glow from a small lamp illuminated the room.

“Put me down,” she demanded. “You’re not going to force me to do anything I don’t want to do.”

Disregarding her command, he shoved open the partially closed door to his bedroom. Soft moonlight glimmering through the French doors saved the room from total darkness. He carried her across the room and dumped her in the middle of his bed.
My God, he isn’t going to stop!
Jolie scurried to the side of the bed and jumped up. Before she could take a step, Max was in her face. She gasped.

He grabbed her hips and hauled her up against him, then rubbed his stiff sex back and forth across her mound. Of its own accord her body undulated against him, seeking a closer union. He thrust his hands up under her sundress, grasped the edge of her panties, and dragged them down her hips, letting them fall to her ankles.

“You won’t need these,” he told her.

She swallowed hard. Every feminine instinct urged her not to resist. She longed to give of herself and take all that she needed from him in return.

Jolie lifted one foot, then the other, stepping out of her panties. “Max, I’m not sure. I’m afraid—”

BOOK: What She Doesn't Know

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