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Irritation and anger swirled inside him. He didn’t want to deal with this woman when another one was still in his heart, twisting the knife deeper.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Cynthia?”
Chapter Thirteen
If he hadn’t been in so much pain, Max would have laughed at the expression on Cynthia’s face. She looked like she’d sucked a lemon.
“Really, Max, what is wrong with you?”
“Nothing is wrong with me.” Except the woman I love just tore my heart to shreds. “What I want to know is what you think you’re doing here?”
“Silly.” Cynthia sounded as if she was talking to a three-year-old. “I just got back from my trip, and I thought we could have a nice dinner together.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes, why would I have dinner with my ex-fiancée?”
Slowly she stood, an indulgent smile curving her lips. “Max, really. I explained that before I left. I made a mistake.”
“Cynthia, have you been smoking pot?”
Her eyes widened at his sharp tone. “Max?”
“You dumped me. I accepted. I sent you on a trip we were supposed to take together. Before you left, I distinctly told you that we would not be getting married.”
“Well, after talking to Daddy again -- ”
Damn, he should have called her father when they first split. He should’ve known she would never be able to tell that man no and make it stick. “Listen, Cynthia, I am not in the mood to be nice to you. It’s over. I don’t want to marry you, or your father. Nothing is going to convince me that we should be married.”
She sighed then her shoulders sagged. “It’s because of Anna, isn’t it?”
Just the sound of her name sent a shard of ice to his stomach.
Before he could answer, she was shaking her head. “Never mind. She denied it when I confronted her earlier today. But the look on your face tells me everything I need to know.” Cynthia picked up her purse. “I’m sorry for the bother, really, Max. I just thought it would be easier…”
Anger, swift and deep, had him striding across the living room. He grabbed her by her arms. “What the hell do you mean, ‘She denied it’?”
Cynthia’s eyes widened in alarm, but he didn’t give a damn. His life had been torn apart and his pride shredded like yesterday’s newspaper. He didn’t care if he scared Cynthia.
She swallowed. “I… I told Anna we were still getting married.”
A thousand emotions swirled inside him -- anger at Cynthia, anger at Anna for believing her. But, God help him, there was a tiny ray of hope.
“You told her that this afternoon?”
She nodded and all of it started to fit together. The cold brush-off, the look in her eyes. He released Cynthia as he sorted through everything, trying to define just how he felt. Everything was jumbled up, and turned upside down. He didn’t know what to do next.
She drew in a deep breath and set her shoulders, as if ready to take on the world. “I’ll have to tell Daddy it’s really over.”
He was damn angry with her right now, but Cynthia, well, she just couldn’t handle her father, who had an awesome temper and demanded complete control. “Blame it on me.”
She shook her head as she walked to the door. “It’s about time I stood up to him. I am almost twenty-eight years old. Tell Anna…well, tell her I’m sorry. Didn’t she tell you?”
“No. No she…” Another wave of uncertain, jumbled feelings swept over him.
“I said some nasty things I’m pretty ashamed of.”
He followed her to the door, his head still whirling, trying to figure out why Anna would dump him without fighting for him. The answer came to him in a blinding flash. Because, every time she broke up with a guy, he claimed he still wanted her. But Anna knew him better than that. Didn’t she? He probably scared the hell out of her. Especially after Cynthia opened her big mouth.
Cynthia leaned forward, bringing him out of his musings, and brushed her lips against his cheek. “Thanks for everything, Max.” Then she slipped through the door and closed it behind her.
Max wandered back to the kitchen, thinking about what Cynthia had said. Shell-shocked by Anna’s careless actions and what it could have done to the both of them. If Anna had thought the wedding was still on…
Damn Anna and her preconceived notions on men. Why hadn’t she confronted him tonight? She should have ripped him a new asshole if she thought he’d been lying to her. She’d just sat there looking…sad. Oh, God, she had looked so sad. He hadn’t realized until this moment what that flash in her eyes had been. It had been bone-deep sadness. His heart ached to think she’d been in so much pain. How could he have missed it?
Max stopped in his tracks and drew in a deep breath. He’d missed it because he’d been so angry at her, at himself for loving a cold woman.
A new kind of anger swept through him. He knew she loved him. It was the only explanation for her behavior. Because she was afraid of losing her heart, she’d almost ruined everything. He drew in a deep breath as he realized that by not telling her how he felt about her, he’d played a part in her misconception. If he had been truthful, instead of planning the whole scenario, she might not have believed Cynthia. Still, she’d allowed him to walk out of her house, out of her life. He grabbed his keys off the counter and hurried out the door to his garage.
If Anna thought she was getting rid of him that easily, she had another “think” coming.
* * * * *
Anna slipped deeper beneath the bubbles and sighed. Even with Barry White crooning in the background, her favorite bubble bath wasn’t making her feel any better. After Max had left, she’d sat on the couch for over an hour and cried. Usually when she felt like that, she called Max and they talked, but that was gone now. She would never have him to soothe the pain again.
Anna lowered her head as a fresh round of tears spilled from her eyes. Oh, God, it hurt so much. She wanted him here now, to make it go away, but she knew she’d pushed him too far tonight. Max never lashed out with words like that, and he’d left some deep cuts. Well-deserved for what she’d said to him, how she’d acted, but Anna couldn’t help it.
“Now, why don’t you look like a woman who’s happy to be rid of me?”
Her head shot up, and she lost her balance and splashed around in the bath water like a fish.
There, leaning against the doorjamb, was Max, his dark-blond hair mussed from the night wind, his chocolate eyes narrowed in suspicion. She reached up to wipe away the tears, but ended up spreading bubbles and water across her face.
“What are you doing here, Max?” Her voice trembled and she cleared her throat, hoping he didn’t notice. Why did the sight of him send a fresh wave of icy pain to her heart?
He ignored her question. His voice was distant, almost cold. “I had a visitor when I got home tonight.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, seems Cynthia told you some lies this afternoon, and you chose to believe them.”
“Lies?” Her heart dropped to her knees.
“Yeah, you know, where she said we were still engaged. What I want to know is why you believed her.” The anger and pain in his voice were unmistakable. “Why didn’t you trust me enough to ask me about it?”
The stress of the day, the pain from his betrayal, spurred her anger. “Trust you? Okay, why didn’t you tell me she showed up at your office the day after you broke up? And that you sent her on the trip the two of you were supposed to take together?”
A flash of guilt darkened his eyes, and she felt the pain of his betrayal as a fresh wound.
“I’m through answering the questions, Anna. It’s your turn in the hot seat. What we’re talking about is you trusting me. Besides, if I’d told you, you would have lost your temper.”
She stood up, her rage dripping off her like her bathwater. “Trust you? Trust you? Dammit, you didn’t tell me she wanted you back.”
Max pushed aw
ay from the doorjamb and walked toward her. The determined look in his eyes sent a wave of heat to her belly. She was sick. How could having the man mad at her turn her on?
He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her out of the tub. He placed her on the bath rug, but didn’t let go of her. Her breasts brushed against his chest when she drew in a deep breath. The heat of his body warmed her.
“Admit it, Anna.”
“What?”
“Admit that you love me.”
Panic rose again, threatening to choke her as fresh tears gathered. Did he enjoy causing her pain?
“I’m not letting you go until you admit it.”
Anna swallowed. “I love you, you jackass.”
The next minute, he was dragging her, soaking wet and dripping water on the floor, to her bed. A moment later, he covered her with his body.
“Max -- ”
“Shut up. Nothing else matters. And I’m going to prove it, one way or another.”
Chapter Fourteen
The feel of Anna’s wet curves pressed against him sent a wave of heat through his body. He was still angry with her for not trusting him, but the warmth filling his gut had more to do with her declaration of love than his anger
He gently brushed her curls out of her face. Her eyes were narrowed in anger…maybe. He didn’t care. She said she loved him, and she couldn’t take it back.
Max cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, trying to let all his love pour from him to her. Her nipples hardened against his chest and he knew he had to have her. Had to prove to her that what they shared was special.
He practically ripped off his dress shirt, and shucked out of his trousers, grabbing his wallet to retrieve a condom.
He joined her back on the bed, reveling in her soft, wet skin. The smell of her desire and her bubble bath combined, pushing his own arousal further. Max took one nipple in his mouth while his slid two fingers into her sex. Juice wetted his hand. Oh, Jesus, he had to have her. At that moment, nothing mattered but her. Getting inside her, feeling her tighten around his cock. He pulled back, grabbed her by the waist, and flipped her over. He shoved a pillow beneath her, propping her ass up further, positioning her just right.
Anna turned around to look at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and darkened with passion. He skimmed the back of his hand down her spine, and satisfaction warmed him as she shuddered. Nothing would ever be as beautiful to him as Anna naked in the moonlight.
His dick twitched with anticipation. He rolled on the condom, and a moment later he was sliding into her as she moaned his name. She was so wet he almost came the first time he drew back and pumped into her. Max gritted his teeth and held himself in check. Still, he had to fight the urge as he continued to slide in and out of her, her muscles clamping tightly around his cock each time. Anna picked up his rhythm, shoving her ass back, taking him deeper. As his blood sped and his balls drew tight, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back.
A second before he lost control, she came, screaming his name, her pussy contracting around him, milking his orgasm from him. Max collapsed on top of her, his body slick with her bathwater and sweat. The scent of their lovemaking filled the air.
He rolled over onto his back and pulled her across his chest. Her hair spilled over his chest and neck. A little feminine snore sounded, and he chuckled. At that moment, he knew he was the luckiest man in Georgia.
* * * * *
Sunlight streaming through the blinds woke Anna the next morning. She shifted her weight, trying to get comfortable as she tested her body. New aches from last night’s activities left her almost unwilling to move.
Anna glanced at the bedside table and noticed that it was past nine in the morning. She was alone in her bed, and no sound came from her bathroom.
Regret filled her as soon as she realized he’d left her. Because she’d been stupid and a coward, Max had left her. Oh, they’d made love all night, but in the cold light of day, she was sure he’d regretted his actions and left early.
She swallowed and decided not to cry another tear on a lost cause. Even if she did love the jackass.
“What’s the matter with you?”
She looked up as Max walked into her bedroom wearing only his dress pants and a wicked smile.
Anna cleared her throat. “Oh, nothing.”
He handed her a mug of coffee. “You thought I left. Come on, admit it.”
“I…” She looked into those deep brown eyes and lost the fight. “Yeah, I did.”
“Stupid.”
“Stupid? Are you calling me stupid? Because you weren’t here when I woke up and every --”
“Don’t ever compare me to any man you’ve had in your bed before. I’m not like any of them.”
The anger in his voice, in his eyes, held her momentarily speechless.
“What was I to think, Max? We didn’t resolve anything last night. We just had sex.”
“Great sex,” he corrected, the amusement evident in his voice.
Irritation crept down her spine. Damn him for cracking jokes when her heart was breaking.
“And we did resolve one thing. You love me.” A satisfied, masculine smile spread across his lips. Irritation was quickly turning into anger.
“Sure, throw that in my face.”
She struggled to get out of bed, but he sat down beside her and grabbed her arms. “Anna, I wasn’t throwing it in your face. I think it’s essential, since we’re going to get married next month.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Max?”
“Our wedding. Do you want something traditional, or do you want to run off to Vegas? We could do it a lot sooner if we do the latter.”
The irritation was back, inching up her spine, making her itch from the inside out. “Am I missing something here, Max? I haven’t heard a proposal.”
“You’re not getting one.”
She twisted her arms free and jumped out of the bed. “What the hell do you mean? I don’t deserve a proposal? You’re just telling me we’re getting married?”
He looked up at her, his lips set in a frown. “You told me you love me. You can’t take it back.”
“We already established that fact.”
“Well, since I love you, we get married. I’m not giving you a chance to think about it and come up with some harebrained reason not to get married.”
Her heart smacked against her chest and then flip-flopped a couple times. She looked down at him and saw the raw truth in his eyes, the vulnerability.
Anna reached out to run her fingers through his hair, and wasn’t surprised to see her hand shake. Oh, Lord, how could she have missed it?
He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. “No more calling the shots, Anna.” He rested his head against her breasts, and his hands slid to cup her ass. When he spoke next, his breath warmed her skin. “I can’t go back to being just friends, Anna. I need you in my life. Lord knows you need someone to keep you on the straight and narrow.”
She chuckled and pulled back from him. Warmth filled her, heating her blood, softening her heart. Oh, God, she loved him. Tears gathered in her eyes.
“Okay, you got it.”
Relief softened his features, and he smiled that crooked smile that always made her knees weak.
“But, just so you know, you aren’t always going to be in charge.” She pushed against his shoulder, and he reclined on the bed. She climbed on top of him and leaned down to kiss him. She could feel his heart beating hard in his chest, his cock hardening against her sex. Anna smiled.
“Now, let’s have a discussion about who should be in charge at this very moment.”
His laughter filled the room as Anna set about teaching him a thing or two about the pleasures of allowing a woman to have the lead.
Melissa Schroeder
Melissa Schroeder was born at an Army hospital to an Air Force family. She's been a little screwy ever since. When she was almost five, her father was assigned to Germany. Over the next four
and a half years, her parents dragged Melissa and her sister from castle to castle, and museum to museum all over Western Europe. She saw the house where Anne Frank lived, visited the Berlin Wall, and saw the Eiffel Tower at night. Her love of history was born and flourished through their many travels. And, although she loved the travel, she swore she would never marry a man in the military (see info. below for a good laugh).
Melissa has always loved to read. She is convinced the love was developed because her mother read to her even before Melissa knew what she was saying. In the seventh grade, Melissa read To Kill a Mockingbird. This book convinced her she wanted to be a writer. It wasn’t until she was in college working on her double degree in history and English, though, and enrolled in creative writing with Professor James Hoggard, where she began to explore her writing. It was there she discovered she had a gift for comedic writing but refused to accept that she wasn't the next James Joyce. She blindly ignored the fact that she was a woman, not Irish, and basically a happy person. She slaved away, ignoring the comments from her instructor who told her she was good at comedy, trying to write full of angst. She didn’t fully explore comedy until she began writing romance several years ago.
She cites Jayne Ann Krentz, Lori Foster, Susan Andersen, Rachel Gibson, Stephanie Laurens, Julia Quinn, and Jennifer Crusie as influences in her romance writing.
Melissa has been married happily for many years to a man who, after they were married, decided to enter the AF. Since she was already in love with him, she decided to put up with the military. They have two daughters, an adopted dog daughter, and live wherever the military sticks them. Which, Melissa is sure, is somewhere with hot summers, and lots of bugs you would normally see on The Animal Discovery channel…
Now that she has signed her first e-book contract, she has two dreams: to sign one of her single titles to a print contract and to live somewhere the bugs die.
* * * * *
Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of