‘I would have helped.’

‘I didn’t need any help,’ he said. He didn’t need anyone. ‘I’ve done it all before.’

‘It’s a shame we didn’t make it to the fishing lodge,’ Louise said as they returned to the chauffeur-driven car Sebastian had thoughtfully laid on for them.

The day had just ebbed away. Lunch with Emma and Sebastian had been unexpected. Wonderful, but even an informal, private lunch with the king and his new queen was not exactly an eat-and-run deal. Then the meeting with a leading hotelier had been long on formality, short on substance, and who could know that the Director of Tourism thought he had to ‘sell’ them Meridia? Organise a tour of the city, with stops at all the historic sites. It would have been unpardonably rude to tell him they were already ‘sold’, but it had left them too short of time to get out to the island in daylight.

Now they barely had time to make their check-in at the airport and, although Max had said nothing, it was as clear as day what he was thinking. That the wasted time was entirely down to her.

‘I should have listened to you, Max, instead of trying to cram everything in. We’re going to have to make another trip to look at it.’

‘That won’t be necessary.’

She stopped, stared after him. He’d didn’t even want to look? Was rejecting it sight unseen. Had he just been stringing her along, making some crappy pay back point about leaping before they’d looked…?

‘You’ve decided against it?’ she demanded, already regretting jumping in to take the blame.

Realising that she wasn’t keeping pace with him, he turned to face her.

‘No, Louise. On the contrary. I want to see it very much, but I thought it likely that we’d need more time so I’ve arranged for us to stay over until tomorrow.’

‘Oh.’ She should have felt happy that he was, after all, enthusiastic about the project, but instead she felt oddly flattened. Excluded. Was that how he’d felt when she’d gone ahead and made arrangements without talking to him first? ‘You didn’t think to mention it?’ she asked as she joined him and they moved on.

‘I did, but at the time you were otherwise occupied.’ It was true-Emma had claimed her attention over lunch, wanting to talk about the coming ball. Ask her advice…‘Is it a problem?’ Max asked, standing back so that she could step into the rear of the car, then joining her. ‘We could always stop somewhere to buy a toothbrush.’

‘Not necessary.’

She glanced at him, then quickly looked away.

They’d been sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close for most of the day, but clearly regretting letting slip his problems with his mother-showing a chink in his armour-he’d kept his distance mentally, put up some kind of invisible wall between them. Maybe it had simply been a business thing, a protection against the simmering undercurrent that was always there, just beneath the surface.

Now they were on their own for the first time since they’d landed, she was doubly conscious of his nearness, not as a business colleague, but as a man.

‘I never travel without one,’ she said, aware that he had looked at her, querying her response. ‘A toothbrush.’ The ‘everything’ she hadn’t got around to listing for him was her emergency pack consisting of spare underwear, a clean T-shirt and a toothbrush; having been held up by delays on more than one occasion, she never travelled without it.

‘Nor do I.’ Then, ‘I’m sorry if I’ve interfered with your plans for the evening. Did you have something special arranged?’

‘On a Monday? After a full day travelling? Are you crazy?’ Then realising what he meant, she added, coolly, provocatively, ‘Just an early night.’ And felt a curious mixture of feelings as his jaw tightened. A giddy heart lift that he cared enough to feel jealousy at the thought of Cal Jameson in her bed. Regret that, despite the changes in their relationship, the fact that he’d felt able to open up a little to her about his own problems-and whoever would have believed Max Valentine had problems?-they were both still caught up in a loop, unable to break the habit of striking first, thinking later. ‘So?’ she prompted. ‘Where are we staying?’

‘At the lodge,’ he replied, equally cool. Equally provocative. ‘We’ll have all night to make ourselves familiar with the interior, consider the possibilities and, if we’re still interested, all day tomorrow to look around the island.’ He paused briefly. ‘I trust the arrangements I’ve made meet with your approval.’

She frowned. Did he really think she’d object? Or was it that he was still so angry with her that he felt he had to score points?

After the incident with the safety pin they’d both been on their best behaviour, managing an entire day without rubbing each other up the wrong way. Now, with no one around to see, they were, apparently, to return to sniping terms.

Well, not her. Not any more. ‘They do, Max,’ she said, very quietly. ‘I should have thought of it myself.’

‘You’ve been fully occupied with your own affairs, no doubt.’

‘It has been quite a week,’ she agreed, even though she was certain he wasn’t referring to the HOTfood relaunch, but holding to her determination not to be roused. ‘Twelve-hour days as standard. But as of five-thirty this morning, I’m all yours.’

‘I think not.’

It was probably fortunate that the car pulled alongside the jetty at that moment, that they were fully occupied transferring themselves to a launch that was waiting to ferry them across to the island. It was hard work being this good when she wasn’t getting any help.

But the journey gave them a fairy-tale view of the city from the lake, the floodlit ancient castle, layer upon layer of lights descending and then reflected back in the ripples. They stood in the bows and watched its retreat before turning to each other.

‘That’s a good start,’ Max said.

‘Magical. I’m glad we had a chance to see it at night.’ Then as the boat slowed she turned to see the approach to the island, the fishing lodge. Equally magical. ‘Come on, let’s see if the arrival lives up to the journey.’

It did. A liveried footman was waiting at the jetty to lead them up a broad flight of stone steps that opened out onto a wide terrace, through a pair of huge, two-storey height doors. Once inside a vast entrance hall, the footman bowed them into the hands of a butler, before disappearing.

‘Good evening, Sir. Madam.’ He took their coats, passing them on to a hovering maid, and already Louise’s mind was working overtime.

They could keep all this, she thought. Sell it as a chance to be treated like royalty…

‘I’ll show you to your room,’ he said, leading the way up a wide wooden staircase that opened up onto a magnificent first-floor gallery with rooms on three sides. The lodge might have been small by castle standards, but not by any other measure.

He opened a door, crossed the room. ‘Your dressing room and bathroom are here, Madam.’ Then, turning to Max, ‘What time do you wish dinner to be served, sir?’

‘Not too late. It’s been a long day,’ Max said. ‘Seven-thirty?’

‘Certainly. A fire has been lit in the drawing room. Please ring and ask for anything you want.’

And with that the man was gone, leaving them both in a vast room dominated by an ornately draped and very high four-poster bed. At its foot, on a low chest, stood their bags.

Side by side.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THERE was a long moment of silence, then Louise cleared her throat and said, ‘I think there must have been a slight misunderstanding. The butler must have assumed we were husband and wife, rather than…

She stopped. It was hard to break the habit of a lifetime. Max was not family. And sharing a room with him, a bed with him, was her darkest dream…

‘I’ll go and sort it out,’ he said.

‘No.’ The word escaped her before she could corral it, keep it safely locked up.

Maybe.

Maybe she didn’t try as hard as she might have done.

This felt like fate saying, ‘Now…’

‘No?’ he repeated, his face expressionless, giving nothing away. For a moment, when he’d taken the pin from her, kept it, anything had seemed possible. Since then he’d kept all interaction on a strictly business level, kept his distance, not just physically, but emotionally.

‘I’m desperate for a cup of tea,’ she said, losing her nerve. ‘Let me freshen up and then we can both go.’

‘I thought you might want a little privacy in order to phone your Antipodean friend,’ he said, stiffly. ‘Explain that you won’t be home tonight.’

‘I don’t have to explain myself to anyone, Max, least of all Cal Jameson.’ Or him, for that matter, but it was time to put an end to this. Set the record straight. ‘And after the state he and some girl he brought home with him on Saturday night left my flat in, he’s very far from being my friend. In fact the next time I find him on my doorstep at two in the morning, I’ll be very tempted to leave him there.’

‘Girl?’ Max repeated, homing in on the one important word, going to the heart of what she was telling him.

‘He must have picked her up when he went clubbing. They woke me coming in at some unearthly hour…’ Then, all innocence, ‘Oh, please. You didn’t think I was sleeping with him, did you?’

‘You implied as much-’

‘No, Max,’ she said cutting him off, dropping the pretence. ‘You implied it. In front of a valued client, what’s more. You implied I was sleeping with him, too, I seem to recall, which might have been funny if it hadn’t been so insulting.’

‘He certainly implied as much.’

‘Cal? Or Oliver Nash?’

His mouth tightened. ‘You know who I mean.’

‘Well, yes. Apart from the fact that he’s married, Oliver is far too much a gentleman to have done anything of the sort.’

‘Not too married, or too much of a gentleman, to be above asking you out to dinner.’

‘Too much of a gentleman to have boosted his ego by implying I was sleeping with him.’ Then, furious with him for being so dense. ‘The man’s an incorrigible flirt, Max, but it doesn’t mean anything.’

‘It might have meant nothing to you, but I can assure you that given half an inch of encouragement, he’d have been in like Flynn.’

Jealous, jealous, her heart sang…

‘He didn’t have any encouragement because I never mix business with pleasure,’ she said, firmly. ‘As for Cal, he’s like a big overgrown puppy. He understands the word no, but believes that if he ignores it, I’ll forget I said it.’ Then, because it was suddenly vital that he was absolutely clear. ‘The most intimate exchange between us was that kiss under the mistletoe at the family party. In full view of everyone.’

‘But you went home with him.’

‘Yes, well…’ She turned away, feeling hideously exposed, but knowing that she had to clear the air between them if they were going to work together. If they were ever going to finish what they’d started. ‘Taking Cal home wasn’t my idea of fun, but Jodie found the idea of sharing her honeymoon with her brother-in-law less than enthralling and, since she’d sent him gift-wrapped as my date for the evening, I returned the favour by letting him stay in my spare room.’ She looked back at him, willing him to understand, cut her some slack. ‘It’s what sisters do, Max. They help each other out. You’d have done the same for Jack, wouldn’t you?’

‘Taken home a good-looking woman who fancied the pants off me to give Jack some space with Maddie? I could see how that might work,’ he said.

‘Oh, forget it!’ She grabbed her bag, headed for the bathroom.

‘No.’ He raked long fingers through his hair, ruffling it in a way that she found unbearably sexy. ‘I’m sorry. Tell me.’

An apology from Max now? They were coming along…

‘There’s nothing to tell, Max. That’s the point. Except that Cal now treats my flat like his own personal hotel, turning up unannounced whenever he’s passing through.’

‘I’m sorry, Lou.’ Another apology? ‘I should have called you, offered to take you to the Christmas party.’

No, this wasn’t an apology. It was something far more significant…

Afraid he’d see, read the unbearable yearning in her eyes, she turned quickly away with, ‘Oh, right. Like I’d have said yes.’

She didn’t wait for his response, but scooted into the bathroom, not coming out until she’d combed her hair, freshened her lipstick. Wiped the need from her face.

‘I’ll see you downstairs,’ she said, when she emerged, heading for the door before he could say any more. Not looking at him, because to look at him was-as it had always been-to invite disaster.

She rang the bell, explained about the rooms, asked for tea, and by the time Max joined her the footman had returned with a tray laden with tea things, accompanied by a maid with a three-tiered tray containing tiny sandwiches, cakes, pastries.