A man like him…
The phrase had slid through her mind. She tried to analyse what it meant and all she could come up with was a sense of absolute control of himself and everything he did. Maximilian Hart exuded power. Was that what gave him the sexual magnetism that invariably rattled her? It probably rattled every woman who was subjected to his presence.
Chloe was totally unaware of time passing. Hearing the door to the suite being opened jolted her into leaping out of the armchair and turning to face the man who’d done whatever he’d done to ensure she was free of harassment. That was much easier to accept when he was not here. The moment Maximilian Hart came into view, her heart started skittering with nervous apprehension.
‘It’s all right,’ he instantly assured her. ‘You won’t have to see any of them again unless you wish to.’ His gaze dropped to the empty balloon glass she was still nursing in her hands, then quickly swung around the tables in the room. ‘You haven’t eaten?’
‘No. I…’ She flushed, remembering his instructions to order something from room service. ‘I just didn’t think of it.’
He smiled reassuringly. ‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Chloe. I’m feeling somewhat peckish myself, so I’m going to order us club sandwiches, which you can eat or not as you please.’
She watched him move to the writing desk, pick up the telephone, speak to room service. He added French fries to the order, then asked her, ‘Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?’
‘Hot chocolate. And tomato sauce.’
He raised a quizzical eyebrow.
‘I like tomato sauce with French fries,’ she explained, not caring if it sounded childish. She suddenly felt peckish, too, and wanted to enjoy the food he’d ordered.
His smile was one of satisfaction this time. Chloe wished his smiles would make him less daunting but they didn’t. They gave her the sense he was one move ahead of her and they were designed to make her feel better about falling in with him. He was probably ten moves ahead of her. She needed to get her wits together and find out what he’d done on her behalf.
Having completed the room service order, he wrote something on the notepad beside the telephone. ‘I’ve booked another suite for myself and stopped all calls to this one so you’re assured of an uninterrupted night. When you’re ready for breakfast tomorrow morning, call me on this number-’ he tapped the notepad ‘-and I’ll join you to plot out the next steps that have to be taken. Okay?’
She nodded, relieved to know he wasn’t thinking of spending the night with her. Not that she had worried about that in any sexual sense. It was a well-known fact he was currently connected to the model Shannah Lian, a gorgeous redhead who oozed class. While Shannah had not attended the party with him tonight, probably because of some other commitment, Chloe didn’t connect the model’s absence to any interest Maximilian Hart might have in herself.
This was business for him. However, he might have thought she shouldn’t be left alone, and the simple truth was she couldn’t relax in his presence. Her gaze drifted to the bed. It would be good to climb into it, knowing she was alone. A shudder of revulsion ran through her at the thought of Tony having sex with her after he’d been with Laura. Never again!
‘Tony will not be connected to the show anymore, Chloe. I’ve fired him from the script-writing team. Laura Farrell will be gone, as well. They’re both out of your professional life.’
Clearing the set for the show to go on, Chloe thought, but their banishment did give her a vengeful satisfaction. ‘Good!’ she said, swinging her gaze back to the man who’d used his power to free her from them in the workplace. ‘Thank you.’
He strolled towards her, gesturing towards the armchair she had vacated. ‘Room service will take a while and we need to talk about your mother.’
She sat down, seething with rebellion against anything her mother might have suggested to him, ready to fight any continuance of the control that had blighted her life. He took his time, settling in his armchair, the dark eyes observing her edginess, making her feel even more tense.
‘Do you want to keep her as your agent?’ he asked.
‘No.’ The word exploded from a mountain of resentments. A rush of doubts followed it. She had no idea of the legalities of the situation. ‘Do I have to?’
He shook his head. ‘I took the liberty of arranging a meeting with her tomorrow for the purpose of ending the business relationship between you.’
He’d already taken the initiative! Chloe stared at him in awed silence.
He made an offhand gesture. ‘You still have the choice.’
‘I don’t want her in charge of anything to do with me anymore,’ Chloe said vehemently.
He nodded. ‘My lawyer will sort it out for you.’
Just like that! She shook her head in amazement, scarcely able to believe that the shackles of a lifetime could be broken so easily. ‘My mother will fight against it. What did she say when you arranged this meeting?’
He shrugged. ‘She wanted to speak to you, which I would not allow.’
‘I don’t want to listen to her.’
‘I did pass that on,’ he said dryly, totally unruffled by whatever arguments had been thrown at him.
Of course he wasn’t emotionally involved, Chloe reasoned. To him it was a clear-cut business issue of ending an agent/actor contract and settling the financial fallout.
‘Do I have to be at the meeting tomorrow?’ she asked anxiously.
‘Do you want to be?’ He didn’t seem to be the least bit concerned about it, again leaving the choice up to her.
‘No.’ She could well imagine the harangue she would be subjected to-the long list of all her mother had done for her. Except it wasn’t for her. It had never been for her.
‘Are you frightened your mother will persuade you to keep her on as your agent?’ he asked curiously.
‘No. I just don’t want to listen to her. If you can work it without me…’
‘It will undoubtedly go more smoothly without you. I’ll have my lawyer join us for breakfast in the morning. You can give him your instructions and he’ll act on them.’
‘I think that would be best.’
Another decision made-by herself, for herself.
‘Yes,’ he agreed, rising from his chair. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Chloe, I’ll call him now. Will eight o’clock suit?’