Colorado 01 The Gamble (51 page)

“Later, Caro,” he called as he opened the
door.

“Later,” she called back and I heard the
sink go on.

“Lock up when you leave, would you?” Max
asked from the open door he’d pushed us through.

“Gotcha,” she replied on a wave and Max
closed the door.

It was cold, definitely colder than it had
been and there was a new layer of snow over the other layer that
hadn’t quite gone away. It coated the landscape in white and made
Max’s vista brand new again. There wasn’t much snow, maybe an inch
or more, but it was there and the effect was magnificent.

There were also clouds covering the sun and
the steps had been cleared but the gravel drive was still blanketed
with white.

“You gonna be safe in those heels?” Max
asked, dropping my hand and sliding his arm around my shoulders as
we started down the steps.

“I think so,” I replied but suddenly, on the
last step, his arm disappeared from my shoulders then reappeared
behind my knees, sweeping my legs out from under me.

I started to fall, a small cry escaping my
lips but he caught me in his arms, lifted me and carried me to the
Cherokee.

“Max!” I exclaimed, wondering what Caroline
would think if she was watching and she was probably watching.

“I’m hungry,” he stated, crunching through
the snow to the Jeep. “You breakin’ your neck will keep me from
breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t have broken my neck,” I
snapped.

“Not takin’ the chance.”

“I’ve been walking on high heels since I was
six and my Mom bought me plastic, little girl dress up shoes,” I
informed him.

“Still not takin’ the chance.”

I really had no option but to let him carry
me, regardless of what Caroline would think (and tell everyone in
town). I couldn’t exactly wrestle him in my present position, he
might drop me and I wouldn’t win anyway.

Therefore I muttered, “Whatever,” as he
opened the door and set me in the seat.

He slammed the door, rounded the hood and
got in as I buckled my seat belt. He strapped himself in, started
up, did a three-point turn and drove down the lane.

“I’ll take you, Nellie and Steve to The Mark
for breakfast after you do your thing,” Max offered as he turned
into the road.

“The Mark?” I asked.

“Where we had burgers,” Max answered.

I liked the idea of revisiting The Mark
where we’d had our first kind of date. And visiting it with Mom and
Steve. Mom, like me, loved her food and Steve was a no-nonsense,
stick-to-your-ribs food kind of guy so I knew he’d enjoy it.
Something to look forward to after something definitely not worth
looking forward to.

“They do breakfast?” I queried.

“Best biscuits and gravy you’ve ever
tasted,” he replied and guided the Cherokee through another
turn.

I scrunched my nose. “Um… I’m not a biscuits
and gravy person,” I told him.

He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his
thigh. “They also make homemade granola. Never eaten it but
everything at The Mark is good.”

Homemade granola. I’d never had homemade
granola. That
did
sound
good.

We drove for awhile in silence and when Max
had to make another turn and downshift to do it he placed my hand
on his leg and this time, of my own accord, I turned it and curled
my fingers around his solid thigh.

There was a fresh nuance to this action that
I liked a great deal. I’d touched his hard thigh naked in bed, in
the sauna and in the shower and I’d felt it between my legs. It
felt better naked and in those places and touching it just then
keenly and pleasantly brought up the reminder.

I let that nuance wash over me and closed my
eyes at the happy feel of it then they popped open when an
unwanted, unwelcome, highly intrusive and intensely painful thought
popped into my head.

That thought was to wonder if Max held
Anna’s hand while he drove and curved her fingers around his thigh
when he had to let her go.

And that thought was so intrusive and so
painful, it made me slide my hand away. I hid this from Max by
using it to pull my hair from my face. Then I snapped down the
visor, snapped up the cover for the mirror and dug into my purse to
find my lipstick.

We neared the main road and Max stopped to
wait for a clearing to make a left.

“Nervous, Duchess?” he murmured softly as I
uncapped my lip liner and focused on my lips.

I wasn’t, not really. Instead I was thinking
about Max and the dead love of his life and trying not to let those
thoughts sear my soul.

“A little,” I lied and lined my lips with a
slightly shaky hand.

“It gets ugly, honey, we’re out of there,”
Max declared, finding his opening, taking the turn and accelerating
down the cleared-of-snow road.

“Okay,” I replied, capping my liner,
dropping it in my mini-makeup bag and finding my lipstick.

I finished my lips, flipped the visor back
up and placed my hand on my purse, not on Max’s thigh although I
wanted to do that I just found I couldn’t.

Max didn’t notice. Instead, he pushed back
into his seat and his hand dug in his jeans pocket. He pulled it
out and without taking his eyes from the road he held up my
engagement ring between our seats, the ring between his finger and
thumb.

“Found that after you had your thing the
other day,” he muttered as I stared at the ring. “Take it, babe,
and do with it what you have to do.”

I reached out and took it, still staring at
it, remembering how I felt when Niles had given it to me. He hadn’t
gotten down on a knee. He hadn’t slid it on my finger. He’d just
placed the box on the table at the restaurant where we were eating,
slid it next to my empty plate and said, “I’d be delighted if you’d
accept that.”

And I’d been delighted to accept it,
delighted at the thought of not being alone, of belonging to
someone and the ring was gorgeous, the diamond was over a carat and
excellent quality, set in a thick, just-this-close-to ostentatious
band heavy with gold.

My mind moved from Niles and like women so
foolishly do when they meet someone they like, it flew forward
months and months and I wondered, if things worked out with Max,
how he’d propose.

Then suddenly I wondered how he proposed to
Anna.

Then I shoved that thought aside and
wondered what his ring would be like.

Then I wondered about the ring he gave to
Anna.

Stop it, Nina, and talk to
him,
Charlie ordered in
my head.

I swallowed, tucked the ring into my own
pocket, looked out my side window and didn’t utter a word.

Max didn’t take my hand again as we drove in
silence into town and he parallel parked on the street three cars
down from the hotel. I opened my door, jumped down, shut it and
rounded the bonnet, meeting Max on the sidewalk.

I had my head down but stopped when his hand
took mine and he didn’t move.

I turned, looked up at him and saw his face
was blank but there was something working behind his eyes,
something I didn’t get but they were roving over my face.

Finally, Max spoke. “A warning, Duchess, I
won’t let your Dad give you any shit.”

The conflicting emotions I had in the Jeep
settled at his declaration of support and I moved closer to
him.

“Okay,” I said.

His hand squeezed mine and then it tugged,
bringing me closer and his other hand went to my hip.

“Another warning,” he muttered, his eyes
locked on mine.

“What?” I asked when he didn’t say anything
further.

He looked at me a second then I saw his jaw
tense, his hand got tight in mine and his fingers gripped my
hip.

“Max?” I prompted, his apparent battle to
gain control over something I didn’t understand was beginning to
worry me because it didn’t seem at all like Max.

“The right thing to do would be to let you
do what you need to do,” Max stated.

I felt my brows draw together in confusion
and I repeated, “What?”

“Not gonna do that, babe.”

“What?” I asked again.

“You think to slide back, settle for
something that made you run away because you think it’s safe,
because it’s familiar, because you’re scared of takin’ a gamble on
me, I’m warnin’ you now, Duchess, I’m not gonna allow that.”

Oh my God.

He was worried. In his Max way, he was
worried I’d walk in, take one look at Niles and go back to my old
life. Or let Niles and my father talk me into it. That was why he
was silent in the Jeep and that was why he didn’t take my hand,
because this was on his mind.

“Max –” I whispered, moving closer and
putting my hand to his chest.

“You just need to know, I gotta fight to
keep what we got so we can build on it, I will. Him, your Dad, you,
I don’t give a fuck. In my life, I’ve learned when to let shit go
and when to fight. This, babe, what we got, I’ll fight for.”

My hand slid up his chest and curled around
his neck as I got closer. I felt tears prick the backs of my eyes
and my stomach melted. I was back to thinking settling for Max
would be perfectly all right. Definitely.

“Max –”

“Fair warnin’.”

My fingers tensed on his neck and I squeezed
his hand. “Okay,” I whispered, “fair warning.”

He dipped his head and touched his mouth to
mine, let me go but his arm curled around my shoulders, mine curved
around his waist, my thumb going into his belt loop and we walked
to the hotel. We no sooner opened the door when we heard it.

My mother screeching, “You
dare!
”

My head whipped to the side and up and I saw
Max already looking down at me, his face both surprised and
amused.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

Over my words, I heard my Mom scream,
“
Let me at
him!
”

Max’s arm dropped but he grabbed my hand and
walked quickly with long strides and I had to rush double time to
keep up with him as he dragged me to the hotel restaurant. When we
entered we saw everyone in the restaurant had their heads turned to
a corner table.

This was because, at the corner table, Steve
was holding my mother back and her arms were outstretched toward my
father, her fingers curled as if she was imagining strangling
him.

Niles was standing, looking somewhat
troubled and uncertain what to do but Dad was sitting, staring up
at my mother with an ugly smirk on his face.

Upon sight of this scene, I realized my
mistake at being late.

Perhaps I should have come as wet-haired,
makeup free Nina.

“I see you haven’t changed, Nell,” I heard
Dad remark acerbically.

Oh dear.

“
I… you… I…
argh!
” Mom screeched.

Max and I hit the table and I opened my
mouth to speak but Max got there before me.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Niles was now staring at Max, not me, but
Max, not looking somewhat troubled but looking like he’d been
punched in the stomach which, I had to admit, made me feel more
than a little guilt. Dad still didn’t move. Steve kept struggling
to control Mom but she suddenly stopped fighting and turned to
Max.

“
You didn’t say yesterday what
he
did!” she shrieked, her arm
swinging out in an arc to point at Dad on the word “he”.

“No point,” Max calmly replied to Mom.

“
No… no… no
point!
” she yelled, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Mom, what on earth is happening?” I asked
but before Mom could answer, Dad spoke.

“Nina, good God, aren’t you even going to
say a single word to your fiancé?”

I glared at my father then I looked to Niles
and tried to rearrange my features into something a little less
angry and a lot more sensitive.

“Hello Niles,” I greeted softly.

Niles’s eyes had moved from Max to Max’s
hand clasping mine and he’d grown pale.

Then he looked at me and stated, “I don’t
understand.”

I blinked at him, not understanding what he
didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“I don’t…” His eyes went back to our hands
and then came to my face. “What’s happening?”

I felt Max tense beside me but I was still
blinking at Niles.

“What’s happening?” I repeated.

“This is… you’re standing there holding
hands with another man,” Niles replied.

I pulled in a breath as the guilt hit me,
harder this time, I gave a tug at my hand but Max held firm so I
stopped tugging and said softly, “I know, I’m sorry, this must be
shocking, it’s –”

“How did you taking a holiday in the Rocky
Mountains translate to you standing across from me, a week after
you left, holding hands with another man?” Niles asked, his eyes
had gone narrow and color had suffused his face.

“I wasn’t on holiday in the mountains,
Niles,” I reminded him gently. “I was taking a timeout.”

“Timeout from work,” Niles said
instantly.

“
Timeout from you,” I said back,
“from
us
. I told you
that, I don’t know how many times.”

Niles’s head tilted to the side and he
retorted, “I don’t even understand what that
means
. I didn’t then and I don’t now.”

“Then you should have asked me when I
explained it to you, told me you didn’t understand.”

“
I didn’t think it was worth discussing and
I certainly didn’t think it would mean it would lead to
this.
”

He didn’t think it was worth discussing?

Now it was me who I suspected looked like
I’d been punched in the stomach.

I let that go, it wasn’t easy but I did it
and instead, asked, “Did you read my e-mail?”