Best Of Makeovers Bundle Part 10

Max thought otherwise.

And Cyn herself didn't look that comfortable. Max knew she didn't like parties. Maybe she needed rescuing. He started to work his way through the crowded room towards her.

Then he saw Karl whispering in her ear. She nodded. And Max watched in dismay as Karl led her out onto one of the balconies. For hundreds of years, men had taken women onto balconies at parties with one thing in mind.

A kiss.

And it made Max want to punch a wall. He should be the one taking Cyn out to the balcony, not Mr Oily. He should be the one stealing a kiss. Because Cyn was most definitely his.

'It's pretty out here, isn't it?' Karl asked, nodding towards the lights reflected on the water.

'Yes.' It was pretty. And, better still, it was quieter than the party. The buzz of noise, people chatting and laughing and being luvvy, was giving Cyn a headache. The background music-something jazzy she didn't recognise-was pleasant enough, but she could barely hear it over the party hubbub.

She needed a breather-but she'd just made another mistake. A really stupid one. Because Karl had no doubt interpreted this as an invitation.

'Cyn.' His voice was soft, breathy. Expectant.

'Maybe we ought to go in. It's a bit chilly out here,' she said, hoping to forestall him.

He sighed. 'Why do I get the feeling that you're trying to give me the brush-off?'

'I...' Probably because she was. But nicely. She bit her lip. 'Karl, you're a really nice guy, and I find you very attractive.'

'But?'

Thank G.o.d! He was bright enough to read between her words. There was a but. An enormous but in neon lettering. 'We're too different.'

'Are we? We don't know each other that well, Cyn.'

True-but she knew enough to know she didn't want to take it further.

'We can have fun exploring our differences. Maybe we can learn new things from each other,' he suggested.

She could guess what 'new things' meant.

'Let's give it a try and see where it leads us,' he coaxed.

Into his bed, no doubt-in his mind.

He took her hand and kissed the palm-a gesture she'd just bet had women falling at his feet. Funny how it left her cold; she had to fight not to s.n.a.t.c.h her hand back.

Poor guy, it wasn't his fault.

He just wasn't Max.

'I...Karl, I'm flattered, I really am. But I just know that spark's not there between us,' she said quietly. Because she'd already met someone who made her feel that spark. A man who had the potential to make her want to put herself before her career. And she didn't want to repeat her mum's mistakes. Cyn already knew that relations.h.i.+ps on the rebound didn't work.

Not that she wanted to explain it. Drag up old hurts, old failings. She'd moved on from that. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

Karl nodded. 'Okay. I'm sorry. I've pushed you too far, too fast. We'll take it slower.'

Slower? Um, no. She wanted a dead halt. 'Look, I'd better go check everything's all right-just in case there's been a last-minute glitch,' she said quickly. 'And then I might book a taxi and go home. I've got a bit of a headache. See you, um, later, maybe?'

'Sure,' he said, not looking in the slightest bit fazed.

She'd pin Lisa down over the weekend. Get some help on how to get the message across to Karl. And by Monday lunchtime he would be perfectly clear how things stood between them. Strictly business.

Her cheeks were pink. Pink. As if she'd just been kissed. Very thoroughly. Max ground his teeth. This was ridiculous. He had no claim over Cyn, so why was he feeling so ragingly jealous?

Max loosened his collar. He needed some air-to clear his head before he approached Cyn, who was determinedly making her way across the room; maybe she was on her way to the Ladies'? He was about to head for the patio when he noticed something. Karl was standing in the doorway that led out to the balcony-and from this angle it looked very much as if he was flirting. Flirting with another woman. Touching her, too-the little early courts.h.i.+p rituals of brus.h.i.+ng lint off her clothes. Grooming.

And this was the man Cyn had chosen? A man who couldn't stop himself flirting and touching other women when his date had gone to the bathroom? No way. She deserved better. Much better.

Max caught himself clenching his fists, and deliberately stretched his fingers to relax his hands. Much as he would have liked to punch Karl on the nose for messing Cyn around, making a scene would do nothing except embarra.s.s her. No, there was a better way of dealing with this. He'd warn the man off.

He strode over to the man in the doorway. 'Fiennes, isn't it?' he asked.

Karl's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the other man's appearance and clearly noted that Max was a good two inches taller than he was. Karl was also obviously trying to look cool in front of the woman he'd just been flirting with. Fine. She might not be able to tell that his bow tie wasn't hand tied. And if that meant he'd leave Cyn alone, that was fine by Max. Very fine.

'I'm sorry. Have we met?' Karl queried.

'Not in person.' Max held his hand out. 'Taylor. Max Taylor.' He made his handshake deliberately firm. 'Thanks for looking after Cyn for me until I got here.'

Karl's eyes narrowed even more. 'Looking after her?'

'She's told me you're colleagues and that you'd keep an eye on her tonight. I appreciate that. She's not really one for parties.'

'I think there's been some mistake.' Karl drew himself up to his full-lesser-height. 'Cyn came here tonight with me.'

'On business.'

Karl shook his head. 'No. I mean with me.'

Max smiled. 'I don't think so. Because I'm sure you wouldn't be so sleazy as to chat up another woman while your date was in the bathroom.'

Colour stained Karl's cheeks. Embarra.s.sment? Anger? Max didn't really care which, as long as Mr Oily left Cyn alone. The woman Karl'd been flirting with pretended to look out at the view from the balcony rail.

'I don't think this is any of your business-Mark, was it?'

'Max,' Max corrected coolly, not in the least fazed by the other man's puerile attempt to put him down. 'Actually, it is. Cyn keeps her private life that way-private. Which is fine, except sometimes it can lead to an embarra.s.sing situation where people misunderstand.'

'Are you trying to say she's seeing you?' Karl asked.

Max folded his arms and leaned casually against the door. 'Put it this way, if she was seeing you, you'd know exactly what she was doing last weekend.' At Karl's surprised look, Max added softly, 'And I do.'

'I don't believe you.'

Max shrugged. 'That's your problem. But thank you for taking care of her for me. I'm here now, so you're free to carry on with whatever work you need to do.'

Before Karl could remonstrate further, Max strolled away. Very coolly. Very casually. And he was going to make d.a.m.ned sure he found Cyn before Fiennes did.

CHAPTER NINE.

MAX scanned the room until he saw Cyn, then made his way over to her, making sure he stood between her and the balcony door.

'Hi, Cyn. How are you?'

Her eyes widened. Was she pleased to see him, annoyed, embarra.s.sed? He wasn't sure. Her face was giving nothing away.

'Oh. Max. h.e.l.lo.'

Her tone wasn't giving anything away, either. Cool and very, very polite.

He forced a smile to his face. 'So which is your favourite of the installations?'

'Installations?'

'The art,' he said softly. 'We're at the launch party for a new gallery, remember?'

'Yeah.' She rubbed a hand over her eyes. 'Sorry. It's been a heavy week.'

Max decided not to a.n.a.lyse that statement too deeply. He didn't want to know what 'heavy' meant, particularly if it had anything to do with that jerk on the balcony. The idea of Mr Oily keeping Cyn awake, causing her to make those soft little ohs of pleasure as he aroused her, discovering exactly where and how she liked being touched and kissed...Max found his hands balling into fists again.

'I've been troubleshooting for a major client,' she explained.

So she'd been working late-not spending every night making love. He relaxed for a second, then got indignant on her behalf again. If she'd been working stupid hours, there was even less excuse for that sleaze-bag to be messing her about! She needed cosseting, not being lied to. And Mr Oily wasn't the one to do it.

'How about you?'

'Hmm?' He'd completely missed her question, because he'd been staring at her mouth. Remembering. Hungering. Wanting to lean forward and take a tiny bite. 'Sorry.'

'Were you involved with-' she gestured towards the ceiling '-the building?'

He shook his head. 'I use mainly reclaimed materials-and I keep the original features as far as possible. They haven't, here.'

She didn't look any the wiser. Well, he knew how boring he could get on his favourite subject. His family tried bravely to listen to him, but their eyes always glazed over after a while. Maybe he should shut up. Now.

'So you're an art fan, then?' she asked.

'Me? Um...' Not this kind of art. 'I'm a little more...let's say...traditional in my outlook.'

She grinned. 'Dinosaur rock and prehistoric art, eh?'

He'd forgotten how her eyes crinkled at the corner when she smiled. And she had dimples. Very cute dimples. He only just stopped himself reaching out to touch.

'So is your client here yet?' she asked.

'No. And I think I'd rather get to see him somewhere quieter. Some place where we can talk about buildings without having to yell over the chatter of the crowd.' He smiled at her. 'Can I get you a drink?'

'Thanks, but I'm fine. Actually, I'm on my way home.'

'Home?' An image of Cyn lying on his sofa flashed into his mind and his knees went weak. G.o.d, he wanted to touch her. Taste her. Trail his mouth along her pulse points and feel the tell-tale beat speeding up.

She gave him a weary smile. 'I'm really only here because the gallery's my client and there's often a last-minute glitch or two that needs fixing. But everything's fine with the system, it's been a long week and I'm shattered. I just want to go home and curl up on the sofa with a good film.'

Curling up on the sofa sounded good. Curling up on the sofa with a good film and Cyn's body tucked in front of his sounded even better. Especially if she- Uh. He needed to concentrate. 'How are you planning to get home?' If she was expecting Karl the Sleaze-bag to escort her, this might be a little tricky. But no way was he going to let Mr Oily take her home.

'Taxi. I've just ordered one.' She inched away from him. 'Well, it was nice to see you again.'

'Where are you going?'

She frowned. 'What is this, twenty questions? If you must know, I'm just going to tell Karl that my taxi's on its way.'

'Don't do that!' He grabbed her wrist. 'I mean...It's cold outside and you'll freeze in that dress. I'll go and tell him for you.'

She stared at him as if he'd grown two heads. 'But you don't know who Karl is.'

He didn't think she'd react too well if he told her he'd looked up Karl's profile on the company website and knew exactly who the man was. Or that he'd been childish enough to introduce himself to Karl and give his firmest handshake-before staking his territory and making sure Fiennes knew that Cyn was off limits to anyone except Max. Then he had a lightbulb moment. 'He was the guy I saw you with earlier, right? Tall, blond?' And a louse.

'Yeah.'

'So I have a good memory. I can remember what he looks like. I'll find him for you.'

'Thank you, but I'll manage. Would you mind...?' She stared pointedly at his hand, which was still curled round her wrist.

He couldn't let her go. 'Cyn, sometimes men aren't what you think they are.'

'You can say that again,' she told him wryly.

Ouch. Well, maybe he'd deserved that. 'No, I mean...' He sighed. 'Look, you've got something going with the guy. I can see that. And I'm not trying to interfere...'

Completely untrue. He was interfering, big time. Because he didn't want her having something going with Mr Oily. She deserved better.

'I don't want to see you hurt.'

'Hurt? What are you talking about?'

'Just that maybe Karl isn't the right one for you.'

'Max, what are you...?' Her voice faded and she looked as stunned as he felt.

Did she sense it, too? The same warm, sweet feeling that was flowing through his veins? All he had to do was lean forward, so very slightly, and touch his mouth to hers. Just as he had last weekend. Just as he had when they'd danced together. And then all the noise, all the crowds around them would vanish. It would be just the two of them, their body heat rising, their bodies moulding- Oh-h-h. He took a step back and dropped her wrist. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to get this surge of desire running through him every time he touched her. He wasn't supposed to get hard every time he looked at her mouth. He was always in control-he didn't get swept away with his feelings.