In that exact moment, I realized my fascination with Ransom had crossed the line of curiosity and turned into something bigger. Beastly and ghastly, out of control.
Possibly recognizing my distress and disorientation at seeing him and not Ransom—whom I bet was screwing another woman right now—Max suggested we go get some shopping done. My parents were still in D.C., and so was Hera.
“You must need to grab some pre-wedding items, right? Gifts and such.”
I nodded faintly, my mind a million miles away. Only when we hit the shops did I remember I couldn’t actually buy anything. Nor had I the desire to, for that matter.
“Max.” I let out an embarrassed laugh as we slid out of the car. “I don’t have a credit card. Let’s turn around and go home.”
Max produced a card from his pocket, wiggling his eyebrows. “For emergencies only. But putting a smile on your face qualifies as an emergency to me.”
“I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
He was so nice, so wholesome, I hated myself for not being attracted to him. What was wrong with me? Why did I want the one man who would probably break me all over again?
“I won’t get into trouble so quickly.” He ducked his head, his cheeks flushing. “Ransom and Tom are notoriously hard to please. They barely hire. They wouldn’t let me go so fast.”
“Well, if you say so.”
I made a reluctant attempt at grabbing a few pieces of fine china I thought were appropriate as a wedding gift for a young couple （Hera would not appreciate secondhand anything）。 Afterwards, Max got us iced coffees and we sat in a park and bird-watched. The day crawled to its end, each minute dragging across my nerves deliberately slow.
“Where’s Ransom?” I asked when we slipped back into the Explorer.
“Hell if I know. He’s a very secretive man.”
“He didn’t take the car,” I noted.
“Not this old thing.” Max took off his sunglasses, rubbing his eyes before putting them back on. “He rented a rad-ass Bugatti. You should see it, Hallie. It’s a piece of heaven.”
“Driven by a piece of work. What is it about smart men and dumb cars, anyway?” I wondered.
“It’s an expense.”
“So my father’s footing the bill?”
“Pretty much.”
Nice to see Ransom was using his spare time polluting the environment.
But this piece of information worked to my advantage, because when we got back to the hotel and Max parked the Explorer, I noticed we passed a Chiron Noire—a three million dollar beast on wheels—parked at the far end of the lot.
He was here.
In my head, I’d already gone through the images of him and a leggy blonde doing all kinds of sordid acts together while Max took me on my daily walk, as if I were a Chihuahua. I was so frustrated—so incredibly furious with Ransom—that I forgot to be a good person and did something terrible to Max.
I slipped my hand in his when we entered the service elevator leading up to my suite. Max’s eyes bulged out of their sockets, pinned on our entwined fingers. I bumped my shoulder to his, mustering an encouraging smile.
Max’s eyes dropped to my mouth. I felt horrible for using him, and yet exhilarated at the prospect of being caught by Ransom.
“What’s happening here, Hal?” Max asked softly.
“What do you want to happen?”
His throat bobbed with a swallow. “I don’t know?”
The elevator dinged open. He forgot to survey the hall before we stumbled out, his focus solely on me.
We stood in front of my door. Exhilaration made my fingers shake. No excuse sufficed for what I was about to do to Max. Use him in the worst possible way. Maybe land him in trouble. But I couldn’t help myself. I was so, selfishly hungry for the man on the other side of that door that I’d left my scruples like a husk of shed snakeskin back in the parking lot.
“Should we?” he wondered aloud. “I mean, I’m not supposed to—”
“We definitely should.”
As soon as I rose on my toes, Max’s mouth descended toward mine. His lips missed the mark, landing on the tip of my nose, before grazing over my cheek. My heart twisted in my chest when I realized this was his version of dipping his toes into the water, checking the temperature.
I’m so sorry, Max. I’ll make it right. I promise.
I laced my arms around his shoulders and pulled him the rest of the way, my lips pressing hard against his, closemouthed. Purposefully—cunningly—I bumped my arm against the surface of the suite’s door, producing a soft and audible thud.
Max’s mouth opened for me, searching, asking for more. Feeling like I was out of my body, out of this moment, I complied, the tip of my tongue swirling around his teasingly. Max’s forehead dropped to mine and a growl came from somewhere deep in his chest, signaling his complete surrender.
As if on cue, the door flew open, and in my periphery, stood the powerhouse to all my fantasies.
The weird thing was, the kiss lasted for a few more seconds before Ransom cleared his throat. I was the first to pull away. Max was higher on desire, his descent back to reality more gradual.
Feigning surprise, I looked between my two bodyguards.
Time to save Max.
“Now, before you get your panties in a twist, it was all my idea,” I squeaked, placing a protective hand over Max’s arm. “I launched myself at him.”
“He’s a big boy. He could’ve fought you off.” Ransom’s smile, white and glorious as it was, was full of derision.
I knew I shouldn’t expect hysterical tears and a tantrum, but his calmness reminded me he was the big, bad wolf and I was the na?ve, red-hooded girl who would get eaten if she wasn’t careful.
“Shit.” Max winced, looking around us for a distraction. “Ransom, I can explain—”
“Doubt it.” His boss shrugged, making himself comfortable on the threshold, not letting either of us inside.
“It’s not what it looks like—”
“That’s not an explanation.”
“Hallie and I have been getting to know each other—” Max rubbed at the back of his neck, his ears pink.
“That’s what happens when you shadow a person all day. You wanna tell me you pork all your clients?” Ransom crossed his arms flippantly.
Max looked desperate. Guilt ate at my insides like acid. I stepped between them, tilting my chin up. “As I said, I kissed Max. It was my idea. He had nothing to do with it.”
“As I said, I don’t give two shits. You’re not a part of this conversation.” Ransom stared past me, at Max.
He couldn’t even look at me. Was that good or bad? I didn’t know.
There’s no way of telling if he was jealous, or just pissed off because he had to deal with this complication.
“Max, go back to your room. I need to get the paperwork sorted before I sack your ass. Brat, inside.” Ransom jerked his chin toward the suite. That’s when I realized he hadn’t called me Brat in quite a while.
Until now.
I walked inside, but not before squeezing Max’s hand reassuringly. “I’m going to fix this,” I whispered to him.
“No, you won’t.” Ransom slammed the door behind us, striding toward the floor-to-ceiling window, knotting his fingers behind his back as he looked onto the restaurant garden downstairs.