A Conflict of Interest (10 page)

“I need you to stay away from me.”

He didn’t like it. But he understood. They disagreed on how their relationship could work while the president was in office. He got that. And he wouldn’t presume that last night changed anything.

“I know how you feel,” he began.

But she put a finger across his lips to silence him. “I mean it, Max. You have to stay away from me, completely away. I’m not strong enough to fight you. You’ll win. And you winning will be very, very bad for me.”

“There’s nothing that says we can’t be friends.”

She glanced down at their naked, entwined, joined bodies. “We can’t be friends, Max.”

He felt as if he’d been sucker punched. He wasn’t ready to say he’d wait four years for her. But he wasn’t ready to say he wouldn’t. He didn’t know where this was going. But she didn’t, either, and they couldn’t just walk away.

“Promise me,” she pressed, capturing his gaze. “No more dropping by my apartment. No more seeking me out at events. No more leaving your watch behind.”

“No.” No way, no how. She was entitled to her perspective, but he had a right to make his case.

A sheen formed in her eyes, and he felt like the worst jerk in the world.

“You have to let me try.” There was a pleading tone in his voice.

She blinked. “If you try, I’ll get hurt.”

“I won’t hurt you, Cara.” He found himself gathering her close again, voice rumbling with emotion. “I swear I won’t hurt you.”

There was a catch in her tone. “Stay away, Max. If you care about me at all, then stay away.”

Max felt a block of ice settle into his chest. He’d sworn he’d do anything for Cara. And this was the thing she asked of him. For that reason, it was what he’d do. He’d do it for her. Even if it killed him.

Seven

I
t had been midmorning when the snowmobiles arrived at the villa to rescue them. Cara used the helmet and a scarf to camouflage her identity as they headed back into town. But it turned out she needn’t have bothered. The town was busy, people focused on repairs to the ski runs and on the final rescue activities. A few fingers pointed at Max when he dismounted and removed his helmet. But Cara was far across the parking lot, being shadowed by a different rescuer, and it didn’t seem to occur to anyone they might have been together.

Thankfully, she quickly learned that everyone was accounted for. Those with injuries had been taken to the Fields medical center, with a few of the more serious cases shipped to hospitals in larger towns nearby. All were expected to recover.

Cara had met up with Gillian in the lobby of the hotel and learned that Jake was taking Max out to cover the avalanche story. Cara, on the other hand, was needed back in D.C. So they packed and made their way to the airport.

There was no excuse for her to stay in Fields any longer. But as Cara climbed the narrow staircase to Gillian’s jet, she felt like she was leaving something precious behind. She knew her mind was playing tricks. What she was sad to leave was a fantasy where Max was a perfect husband and father. The reality was something altogether different, and she was going to have to get used to that.

She ducked her way through the jet’s door, inhaling the soft scent of new leather. The dozen white seats looked more like armchairs than airplane seats, each pair facing one another with a polished rosewood table between. Near the back was a sofa, oriented sideways, across from an entertainment center. Burgundy throw pillows gave a decorator’s touch, and large, oval windows illuminated the pale interior.

Cara made her way to one of the luxurious seats in the forward half of the cabin. The copilot had relieved her of her luggage, and she tucked her purse beside the seat as she sat down.

“Did you turn into a billionaire when I wasn’t looking?” she asked her sister.

Gillian grinned from the doorway. “Not yet.” Then she turned to speak to the pilot, her voice too soft for Cara to hear.

“Yet?” Cara prompted as Gillian moved toward her.

“Maybe someday. Well, really, depending on how things go in India,” said Gillian as she plunked down across from Cara. “Fingers crossed. If you’re curious, I can check with my accountant and see how close we’re getting.”

The hydraulics whirred as the jet plane door folded into the closed position.

“Do you ever stop and let it boggle your mind?” Cara had always considered her sister a genius. And she’d known for a few years now that Gillian’s business was growing in leaps and bounds.

“You let it boggle your mind when you’re in a room with the president?”

“Yes,” Cara answered honestly.

“But not enough to stop you from doing your job.”

“I suppose.”

Gillian opened a recessed compartment next to her seat, extracting a bottle of water from a bed of ice cubes. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Because we’re sitting in a ridiculously expensive jet, being pampered beyond what is reasonable.”

Gillian buckled up, then gestured to the small trapdoor next to Cara’s seat. “Thirsty?”

“Not really.”

Cara tightened the seat belt across her hips. The jet began to taxi, turning on a dime to head for the runway.

Gillian unscrewed the cap on her bottle. “We should be talking about Max.”

“I don’t want to talk about Max.” Cara changed her mind about the water, lifting the small, wood-grained lid of her seat compartment and taking a bottle.

Gillian leaned back against the headrest of her seat. “Was that a thump I heard in the middle of the night?”

“You mean the avalanche?”

“You falling off the wagon.”

“Wagon?” Cara took a drink of the chilled water.

“The no-Max-Gray wagon.”

Cara choked, struggling not to spit out the mouthful of water.

Gillian laughed at her struggle. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You should take it as shock,” Cara wheezed. “At the audacity of your question.”

Gillian waved a dismissive hand as the engines whined to full power. “But you did it, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Cara admitted. “I did. Thanks to you. And I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Is it working?”

“Not particularly.”

Gillian’s voice lowered, her expression going softer. “Sorry I left you.”

“Why
did
you leave me?”

Gillian had been fully aware that Cara was fighting her feelings for Max. Leaving them alone together hadn’t been a particularly supportive move.

“I was hungry,” Gillian sheepishly admitted. “Jake seemed like a decent guy. I didn’t expect the conference call. And I sure didn’t expect an avalanche.”

“You thought you’d be back before Max could seduce me?”

“I did. I didn’t count on the two of you rushing for the bedroom the minute we cleared the driveway.”

“That’s
not
how it happened.”

“No kidding.”

“I held out for a while. But he practically saved my life. I mean, well, he would probably have saved my life. If the avalanche had hit the villa and the roof had caved in.” Cara’s memory went back to those few moments when she’d thought they might die, the feel of Max’s body sheltering her, his strength, his ingenuity.

The jet sped its way along the frozen asphalt, lifting smoothly into the air before banking around the mountain peaks.

“How did it happen?” asked Gillian.

Cara frowned at the question. “I think you want us to be closer than sisters ought to be.”

“We’ve always been closer than sisters ought to be.”

It was true. “You want to know which position we used and what he whispered in my ear?”

Gillian answered with a broad grin. “I want to know what you were thinking the moment before you said yes and took off your clothes.”

“I was thinking no, no, no, no,
no.
”

“Clearly, that worked.”

“I was making a reasoned and logical argument inside my head for keeping my hands completely to myself.”

“And?”

“And he told me I was overthinking.”

“Were you?”

“I’m always overthinking. There’s nothing wrong with overthinking. You generally come to much better decisions when you’re overthinking.”

“So what happened?” Gillian prompted.

“He kissed me.”

“Just up and kissed you?”

“Just up and kissed me. He didn’t have a counterargument. There wasn’t a single point for his side.”

“So he kissed you instead.”

Cara felt a little shiver at the memory. “And that was all she wrote. Next thing I knew, I was naked.”

Gillian laughed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny. But I love that my coolly logical, self-contained, controlled sister got swept away by inappropriate passion.”

Cara sent her a glare. “Well, I didn’t love it at all,” she lied.

“Was it bad?” asked Gillian, sobering.

“No.” Cara couldn’t bring herself to lie about that.

“Good?”

“So good,” Cara swallowed. Forget the top ten, Max had to be the hottest man alive, and heaven had to be just like those moments in his arms.

“So what now?”

“Nothing now. It’s done. It’s over.”

“You broke up with him?”

“There was nothing to break. We were never together. But I made him promise that he’d stay away from me. He has principles. He’ll keep his word.”

Gillian was silent for a long moment. “You think that was smart?”

“It was brilliant.” Cara trusted Max more than she trusted herself.

“I guess that’s one problem solved.” As the plane leveled off, Gillian unbuckled her seat belt. “But what will you do when your pregnancy starts showing? D.C.’s a pretty small town. Max is going to hear that you’re pregnant.”

“I have a plan,” said Cara, shifting to get comfortable in her seat, telling herself it was past time to stop talking and thinking about Max. It was her and the baby from here on in.

“Oh, do tell,” Gillian encouraged.

“I’m requesting a transfer to one of our foreign embassies. Maybe Australia, maybe Canada or England. There are plenty of places for me to go.” She made a show of glancing around the plane’s interior. “And it’s not like you can’t come and visit whenever you want.”

“Would they give you a transfer?”

“I hope so. Maybe. I think I have a good chance.”

“And, if they don’t?”

“They will.”

“Cara—”

“I don’t need plan C, D and F.”

Gillian opened her mouth, but Cara didn’t let her get in a word. “I’m not you,” said Cara.

“And I’m not pregnant,” Gillian retorted.

“Really? You’re going to go there?”

“I’m just sayin’, you were probably hoping the birth control would work, too.”

“What made you so mean?”

“If your big sister won’t tell you the truth, who will?”

“That’s not the truth. That’s your paranoid view of the world.”

“If we don’t break into the India market,” Gillian said reasonably, “we’ll try for Brazil.”

“So, you’ll still become a billionaire.”

“Exactly.”

“And that was a metaphor for good contingency planning?”

“It was. You can’t do these things on the fly. I already have staff in South America. We’ve got a dozen in-market consultants working from Chile to Colombia. But, for your circumstances, good contingency planning says you need to let Max know the two of you weren’t exclusive. And you need to do it now, before any hint or whisper of pregnancy comes up.”

“Just call him up?” Cara challenged, knowing it was ridiculous. She could never pull that off. Not with Max. Maybe not with anyone.

“You could be a little more subtle than that.”

“He’d know I was lying.”

“How would he know?”

“Because I could never do it with a straight face.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Hmm.” Gillian went silent for a moment. “Okay, then I’ll do it for you.”

Cara scoffed. “I think we’re above and beyond sisterhood again.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

Cara cocked her head and cast her sister a baleful look. “You’ll tell Max that I’ve been sleeping with other men?”

“Please. Give me a little credit. I won’t tell Max. I’ll tell Jake.”

Cara gave a slow blink of astonishment. “Jake?”

“He liked me,” said Gillian. “Or at least he was attracted to me. He was definitely flirting with me.”

Cara had no doubt it was true. “You don’t think it’ll look suspicious if you call him up to talk about my sex life?” The idea was so preposterous, she didn’t know whether to laugh or shriek.

“He’ll call me.”

“What? When? Wait a minute. Did you sleep with Jake?”

“No,” Gillian huffed. “I did not sleep with Jake. I only just met the man.”

“But he stayed in your hotel suite last night.”

“Where else was he going to stay? The hotels were completely full, and his villa was hit by an avalanche.”

Cara quirked a meaningful eyebrow.

“Listen, missy.” Gillian wagged her finger in mock admonishment. “It was a big suite, and I behaved myself.”

“Did you like him?” Cara asked, contemplating the possibilities.

“I don’t know. I suppose.” Gillian’s gaze moved to the window. “He’s kinda cute and funny. He’s got a wicked sense of irony. You know, it’s been a long time since any guy completely ignored my money.”

“He didn’t notice the three-thousand-dollar-a-night hotel suite?”

“If he did, he didn’t say much. But back to you. All I have to do is mention to Jake that I’m in D.C. He’ll talk me into a drink and voilà.”

“Voilà? In between martinis, you bring up your sister’s sex life?”

“Easy, peasy.”

“No,” Cara told her with conviction.

“You don’t have to lift a finger.”

“No.”

Gillian looked carefully into her eyes. “You sure?”

“I’m positive.” She was. Sort of. Maybe.

She couldn’t deny the utility of Max thinking someone else was the father. But she wasn’t ready to let him think she’d betrayed him.

Then again, maybe
betrayal
was too strong a word. They’d dated casually, never had an understanding of any kind. Maybe he already thought she’d been with other men. Maybe he’d been with other woman.

She swallowed. She knew it wasn’t her right to care. But she cared very much.

* * *

“Your instincts are second to none.” Max’s former boss, Marnie Salloway, hit the remote, shutting off the video segment from the Fields avalanche. Max hadn’t worked with the woman in years, not since she was an associate producer and he was fresh out of college at in Maryland. But he’d answered her summons for a meeting. He wanted to look her in the eyes and ask a few questions.

“Right place, right time,” said Max, turning in his chair at the long, oval table in the office boardroom.

“Juxtaposed with the snowboard lessons, you look like the all-American guy.”

“Hardly,” Max scoffed.

Marnie gave him a knowing smile. “And you look so darn good doing it.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

She was at least ten years older than Max. He’d been the object of her attention in the past, and he had no wish to repeat the experience. He also hoped to throw her off her game. If Liam Fisher was right and ANS was playing fast and loose with the law in getting their info on the Ariella Winthrop scandal, Marnie would be in the thick of it.

“Absolutely not,” she trilled. “Please. I’m merely saying what we both know. You’re a star, Max. Though now that we’re talking about it, I think you’ve gone just about as far as you can go over at NCN. When are you going to consider joining a real network?”

“NCN feels pretty real to me.”

“Not according to the latest ratings. Well, your show is doing fine.”

“Which would be my primary concern.”

Marnie sat forward, her fire-engine-red nails clashing with her rather orange-hued hair. “I’m not talking about how your show is doing now. I’m talking about what you could be doing from here. Our budget is higher. We have more viewers. And we’d be willing to look at giving you some producer responsibilities. Think about it, Max. You could influence the direction of your stories and your show.”