“Let’s get this straight just to settle your curious mind,” he began. Shira shifted in her chair. “Sarah was my mate, soon to be my wife. She did not leave me. She died.”
And the conversation went to hell. Shira couldn’t make herself respond. She hadn’t made him feel better. She had dredged up painful memories and come off to Max as if she was just being nosy.
“Oh.” Rather than say I’m sorry, which she was, she kept quiet. Saying that had pissed him off before, and if she hadn’t set him off just now, she wanted to avoid it. As she pushed her food around on her plate, the nature of her job occurred to her. Did housekeepers sit down to dinner with their employers? Probably not. Embarrassment took her appetite. She jumped to her feet. “I should wash the pots.”
“Sit down, Shira. You’re not done.”
Her hands fluttered above her dish, and she curled her fingers into her palms to keep them still. “I shouldn’t be in here eating with you. I know housekeepers don’t do that.”
“We’re not keeping to tradition.”
Damn, did he have to be so deadpan about everything? Irritation rose in her. “Are you going to spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself? Or are you going to live, because I doubt Sarah would like it.”
Max narrowed his eyes at her. One minute he was on the other side of the table. The next he stood in front of her, and she hadn’t even seen him move. “Don’t pretend to know what Sarah would have wanted. In fact, don’t mention her at all.”
To her disgust, Shira cowered. She threw up an arm to block the blow that had always followed harsh words. Stumbling backward, she bumped her chair and knocked it over. Max’s hand shot out to steady her, but he must not have calculated the strength needed. His pull catapulted her to his chest and knocked all the wind from her lungs. She cried out.
Both his hands were on her waist, and she was sealed to him, head down and too afraid to look him in the eye to see the rage he must be feeling. When he spoke though, she was surprised by the gentleness in his tone. “I didn’t mean… I wouldn’t hit you.”
She shook, hating her weakness. This wasn’t the way to start her life over. Her hands were trapped against his chest, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. They were so close, he had to feel how she trembled. He must think she was pathetic.
“Look at me.”
Shira closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
“Shira.” His whisper sent chills down her spine, but not from fear. Her fingers spasmed where they lay against the hardness of his muscle and the warmth from his being. He clenched her waist a little tighter. “Look at me, Shira.”
She took her time raising her head and started when her gaze met his. The deep concern she saw in his brought tears to her eyes. To her shame, they ran down her cheeks, and he made a sound in his throat before his lips covered hers. At first, Shira didn’t know what to do, but then the desire she’d been feeling for him from the first time she met him rose inside her. She parted her lips to take the kiss further. He tasted so good, and his lips were soft for a man of his build. She moaned when he pushed his tongue into her mouth, but in the next instant, Max put her away from him.
His big chest rose and fell, and his breathing sounded harsh to her ears. Shira panted just as much, and she put fingers to her tingling lips. What had she been thinking going that far with the kiss? He must think she was a whore and deserved whatever treatment Sam had dealt her.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I couldn’t think of a better way to comfort you. I made the wrong choice.”
Shira frowned. “It was good. You don’t have to snatch it back!”
A feather could have blown her over when Max gave a sharp bark of laughter. In a roundabout, crazy way, she had done what she set out to do.
Chapter Four
Shira tossed and turned in bed. She’d been unable to sleep
And the conversation went to hell. Shira couldn’t make herself respond. She hadn’t made him feel better. She had dredged up painful memories and come off to Max as if she was just being nosy.
“Oh.” Rather than say I’m sorry, which she was, she kept quiet. Saying that had pissed him off before, and if she hadn’t set him off just now, she wanted to avoid it. As she pushed her food around on her plate, the nature of her job occurred to her. Did housekeepers sit down to dinner with their employers? Probably not. Embarrassment took her appetite. She jumped to her feet. “I should wash the pots.”
“Sit down, Shira. You’re not done.”
Her hands fluttered above her dish, and she curled her fingers into her palms to keep them still. “I shouldn’t be in here eating with you. I know housekeepers don’t do that.”
“We’re not keeping to tradition.”
Damn, did he have to be so deadpan about everything? Irritation rose in her. “Are you going to spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself? Or are you going to live, because I doubt Sarah would like it.”
Max narrowed his eyes at her. One minute he was on the other side of the table. The next he stood in front of her, and she hadn’t even seen him move. “Don’t pretend to know what Sarah would have wanted. In fact, don’t mention her at all.”
To her disgust, Shira cowered. She threw up an arm to block the blow that had always followed harsh words. Stumbling backward, she bumped her chair and knocked it over. Max’s hand shot out to steady her, but he must not have calculated the strength needed. His pull catapulted her to his chest and knocked all the wind from her lungs. She cried out.
Both his hands were on her waist, and she was sealed to him, head down and too afraid to look him in the eye to see the rage he must be feeling. When he spoke though, she was surprised by the gentleness in his tone. “I didn’t mean… I wouldn’t hit you.”
She shook, hating her weakness. This wasn’t the way to start her life over. Her hands were trapped against his chest, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. They were so close, he had to feel how she trembled. He must think she was pathetic.
“Look at me.”
Shira closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.
“Shira.” His whisper sent chills down her spine, but not from fear. Her fingers spasmed where they lay against the hardness of his muscle and the warmth from his being. He clenched her waist a little tighter. “Look at me, Shira.”
She took her time raising her head and started when her gaze met his. The deep concern she saw in his brought tears to her eyes. To her shame, they ran down her cheeks, and he made a sound in his throat before his lips covered hers. At first, Shira didn’t know what to do, but then the desire she’d been feeling for him from the first time she met him rose inside her. She parted her lips to take the kiss further. He tasted so good, and his lips were soft for a man of his build. She moaned when he pushed his tongue into her mouth, but in the next instant, Max put her away from him.
His big chest rose and fell, and his breathing sounded harsh to her ears. Shira panted just as much, and she put fingers to her tingling lips. What had she been thinking going that far with the kiss? He must think she was a whore and deserved whatever treatment Sam had dealt her.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I couldn’t think of a better way to comfort you. I made the wrong choice.”
Shira frowned. “It was good. You don’t have to snatch it back!”
A feather could have blown her over when Max gave a sharp bark of laughter. In a roundabout, crazy way, she had done what she set out to do.
Chapter Four
Shira tossed and turned in bed. She’d been unable to sleep
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