And the last thing she wanted was for this man to use her and then discard her like a worthless piece of rag. Because if he did, she would just have to kill him.
So before it got to that she’d better put a stop to this…this seduction he’d orchestrated. Because she was nobody’s patsy.
“Max, stop. I want to get up.”
At her words he froze then slowly he lifted his head to look up at her. “Now?” he asked, his eyes filled with desire and confusion.
“Yes, now.” Silken’s voice was firm and even before he moved away she was drawing her blouse together and feeling for the buttons.
Max’s brows fell in a frown but he pushed himself up and away from her then got up off the couch, his shirt still flapping loose around his bare torso. He looked like he wanted to say something but then he tightened his lips and remained silent.
She stayed silent, too, her head down as she swung her legs off the couch then deftly buttoned up her shirt and tucked the ends back into her slacks. She stood up and when she did, Max backed away as if he wanted – no, needed – to put some distance between them.
Silken lifted her face and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m going to head home now,” she said, her voice firm. “Thanks for dinner.”
CHAPTER NINE
Of all the women in the world for him to run into and begin to like, it had to be one who was certifiably insane.
At the thought of Silken Max could only shake his head. It had been almost three weeks since he’d invited her over to his house – and her sister, as she’d demanded – and then when he’d try to show her that he had feelings for her she’d shot him down cold and walked away. Just like that. Even though, from her body’s reaction to him, he knew she wanted him. Her shivers, her gasps, the dilation of her pupils – that was something you just couldn’t fake.
So what the hell happened? One second she was begging him for more and the next she was pushing him away. Chameleon through and through.
He’d thought of contacting Suave, seeing if she could explain Silken’s strange behavior, but then what would he say? I tried seducing your sister and things started out pretty good but then she went cold on me?
He gave up on that idea real fast. And he gave up on the idea of ever seeing Silken again. At least, that was what he’d told himself three weeks ago. But now…
Dammit, he was beginning to miss the little witch and he didn’t know who to be more pissed with – Silken, for setting up permanent residence in his brain or himself for being a damn fool who couldn't get a wacky woman out of his mind.
So now the question was, what was he going to do about it?
Max got up from behind his desk and walked over to the window to stare out at the grounds of the new offices of his racing division. Deep in thought, he shoved his hands into his pockets. He’d had a bellyful of Duke asking after the twins and even Reed, long after he’d arrived back in England, kept asking him to tell them hi. Each time he’d mumbled something noncommittal but the truth was, he hadn’t spoken to either one of them since their departure from his home weeks before.
Not Suave and not Silken....Silken, with her too-often knitted brows, her flashing brown eyes and permanently pouty lips…lips he was dying to taste again.
At the memory of her lips, her soft full br**sts, her ni**les so puckered and pink, his mouth went dry. Dang! He hadn’t seen the woman in three weeks and she still had such a hold on him that he was having a hell of a time shaking it off. If he ever did...
And he had a feeling he wouldn’t, so he might as well do that thing he’d been avoiding all this time. He'd been telling himself he was a fool to even pursue it.
As much as it went against his nature, he would swallow his pride and go and find Miss Silken McCullen.
***
“Are you nervous? I’m nervous. So darned nervous.” Suave was wringing her hands as they stood on the front steps of Doctor Pintero’s stone English Tudor home in Shorewood Hills, a prestigious neighborhood not far from the University of Wisconsin.
“Just calm down. It’s going to be all right.” Silken gave her sister's hand a little squeeze. She knew exactly what Suave was feeling right now. She was nervous, too, but she wasn’t about to let on. She needed to be strong for both of them.
By some miracle they’d finally found the contact details for the doctor who’d delivered them over two decades earlier, a doctor who was now well into his eighties and no longer practicing medicine. They’d tried calling him but only succeeded in getting his housekeeper who advised them that the doctor was very sick and was not taking calls. She’d been very abrupt and would have hung up on them but it took Suave’s tearful appeal before she would listen.
After their explanation and pleading request – they weren’t too proud to beg – the woman finally agreed to speak to the doctor on their behalf. She took their names and number and promised to call back. After two days of waiting they’d heard nothing. Silken, anxious to get things resolved, decided to call again but Suave convinced her to wait a day or two longer. On the third day they got the call. The doctor would see them but only for a short while and they should do nothing, absolutely nothing to cause him undue stress.
They promised and now here they were, on the doctor’s doorstep, waiting to find out everything he knew about their mother. He was their only hope of ever finding her.
Suave pressed the button and they heard the bell chime throughout the house and then they waited, Silken holding her breath and Suave smoothing her skirt with trembling hands.
The door opened and a tall, severe-looking woman with ash-blonde hair stood staring back at them. Silken paused, surprised. She’d expected a little woman, probably one with gray hair but this woman was an Amazon, tall and strong and obviously in charge. “Mrs. Detlef?” she asked, wanting to make sure she had the right person.
At the woman’s nod, she continued. “I’m Silken McCullen and this is my sister, Suave. We called last week about speaking with the doctor.”
The woman’s jaw tightened. “I was expecting you an hour ago.”
“Please excuse us,” Suave said, the knuckles gripping her bag strap turning white. “Our flight was delayed. We just got to Wisconsin this morning.”