Mr. Personality (14 page)

At last, the awards ceremony began. The president of the association spoke and several other presentations were made before Pete Tucker was introduced as the evening’s honoree. The man introducing Pete then mentioned his relationship to Max. At that moment, a spotlight glared into their faces. If possible, Max looked even more forbidding.

Nicole’s heart sank. He sure the heck didn’t look the part of a benign, proud brother. In fact, for all his expressionlessness his frustration was a palpable thing, like a caged beast barely held in check. So much for a conciliatory expression of interest in Pete’s life.

Then Pete was on stage, standing behind the podium, his face pale and damp-looking in the lights. Mumbling a few inarticulate comments he thanked them for the award and left the stage—without mentioning his brother or looking once in Max’s direction. If she’d had to guess, she wouldn’t have thought Pete’s heart was warmed by his brother’s joining in to honor him.

As the master of ceremonies concluded the evening, Nicole sat reflecting on how she’d hoped the evening would turn out. She’d only wanted to patch things up between Max and his brother. It had seemed simple enough for him to attend tonight, an expression of support from one brother to another.

Maybe, she thought optimistically as she got to her feet, maybe the gesture would still be interpreted in a positive light by Pete. Maybe he was too shy and private to respond to Max’s overture with everyone watching. It might still work out.

Now that the evening was winding down, the conversation around them rose to a deafening level with people beginning to rise from their seats.

Sitting at the table next to Nicole, Max resisted the temptation to strangle her. This was all her fault, damn her. If she hadn’t pestered him into thinking so much about Pete, coming here would never have sounded like a reasonable idea.

Another photographer loomed up across the table from them, his camera clicking and whirring as he captured image after image.

“Hey,” Max commanded, his voice carrying above the buzz of conversation, “I’m not the honoree here. Go take some shots of Pete Tucker.”

Not hearing or not caring, the photographer kept taking pictures.

“Mr. Tucker,” Andy, the man in the small tuxedo appeared at Max’s elbow. “We have a number of news people outside. They must have heard you were here. We thought you might want to go out through the back?”

“Yes,” Max responded, getting to his feet. Anything to get the hell out of here. Normally, he just ignored the press and the more insensitive fans, but tonight with everything that lay unresolved with Pete, his skin wasn’t thick enough.

The rigid look on Pete’s face when he was on-stage said as much as the fact that he refused to glance Max’s direction. This had been a terrible idea. Again, he’d inadvertently overshadowed his brother…and this time in Pete’s big moment.

Pulling Nicole’s chair out, he waited for her to stand. Then, not bothering to ask her wishes, Max put a hand to her waist and pushed her into the somewhat protected space between tiny-tuxedo Andy and himself. They just needed to get out of here.

Realizing he’d been led into a press ambush, Max froze just inside the door. Nicole, having recoiled in surprise and dismay at the sight of the roomful of press, stood beside him, her eyes wide.

“Mr. Tucker, do you read your brother’s books?”

“Max, you don’t normally attend awards ceremonies. Are you trying to give your brother’s career a boost by coming here tonight?” asked a woman with a microphone extended.

“Of course, not!” Max snapped, vividly aware of Pete standing not ten feet away from him. How dare they imply that Pete needed any help from him to succeed? A bank of microphones in front of him, Pete said nothing. But from his spot, he looked at Max with anger in his eyes.

“Do you talk
at all?”
a voice asked from the back of the group. “Or do you think his work is too inferior?”

Hearing the words yelled out, Nicole cringed, her gaze whipping to Max’s face. This was horrible! Couldn’t these people see how ugly their questions were? Of course, they’d be bound to ask Max some questions about Pete’s award, but someone had to shift the focus. A clever comment from Max about their family genes would lighten the atmosphere. Or he could say something about how he had to make up all his books while his brother was smart enough to use actual facts—anything along those lines would have turned the mood of the moment.

But Max stood rigidly in front of the gang, the flashes illuminating his coldly furious face. Watching him, Nicole wondered why he didn’t say anything. If he’d just give them something, the dogs would back off. All he had to do was say how proud he was of his brother, how much he admired Pete’s style of work, anything at all. If he’d get a grip on himself and use his intelligence, he’d know standing here getting pissed wasn’t going to help—

“Did you teach your brother everything he knows?” the woman in front asked.

Apparently, that did it. As if something snapped inside him, without saying a word Max wheeled around and burst out of the room. Quickly following him, Nicole watched as he grabbed Andy, the guy who’d led them into this, by the shirt front.

Trailing after him, Nicole was so mad she could spit. “What are you doing? You can’t just walk out like this! Your brother is in there. Didn’t you want to talk to him? Don’t you know those reporters will eat him alive if you run out like this?”

Ahead of her, Max strode forward as if he didn’t hear her, opening doors and brushing past hotel staff in his furious search for a back exit.

“Are you trying to make Pete look silly?” she persisted. “You’ve got to go back and try to straighten out the mess you’ve made of things. If you really care about your brother, which I’m beginning to doubt, you’ll go back! Because he’s back there by himself, trying to explain—“

Stopping abruptly in front of her, Max turned and growled into her face. “Be quiet!”

Conscious of a woman in a maid’s uniform scurrying by as she cast Max a terrified look, Nicole was so startled by his demand she could only blink up at him. By now, she was accustomed to his biting sardonicism, but she’d never before seen him so visibly angry.

Max stopped again, swiveling back to say, “Because that mess back there with the paparazzi demonstrates how trustworthy people are.”

With that, he turned and continued on. At last, a door appeared to their left. Pushing through it without hesitation, Max paused in the alley outside. Nicole followed him, looking anxiously around. The back alleys of New York weren’t her idea of a safe place to loiter at night.

“Come on,” Max ordered, walking off without looking to see if she followed.

Getting madder and madder, Nicole stomped after him. Mr. I’m-So-Important obviously didn’t think about anyone but himself. Not his brother, certainly not her.

When Max reached the street, he hailed a cab and climbed into it, leaving the door standing open. Hovering momentarily, Nicole thought about hailing her own cab, but the dark streets were starting to spook her, so she climbed in after him.

“If you hadn’t harassed me into coming here tonight, none of this would have happened.” Not a small man, he seemed to dominate the seat they shared.

Conscious of the cab driver in the seat just inches away, Nicole glanced his way before speaking. To her surprise, he was looking straight ahead, not appearing to even be aware of them in the seat behind him.

Turning her attention back to Max, just a few inches away from her, she said, “I didn’t harass you. I just suggested it. You were the one—“

“Now the breach between Pete and I is wider than ever, if that’s possible.” Max’s angry gaze brooded on her.

“If you’d just
said
something back there or even smiled!” she glared back at him. “You sat there during dinner looking cold and distant.”

“I did not,” he contradicted, his anger and frustration nearly tangible.

“Yes, you did. The fact that you have a breach between you two is something you should have—“

He leaned toward her, the material of his suit bunching over his bicep. “This is what comes of interfering busy bodies who try to run other people’s lives. Things are worse than before. You saw Pete’s face. Not only have I wronged him in the past, but by coming here tonight, I wronged him again.”

The hot retort trembling on her tongue was silenced by the intensity in his face as he glowered at her. She just looked at him without speaking, sadness and frustration clamoring in her chest.

“It’s all your fault,” Max declared again, his voice low and furious. “All of it.”

“This is
not
my fault,” she shot back, shifting toward him on the seat, stung to fresh anger. “I’m not the one who has maintained a feud with my only brother! I’m not the one who shuts himself away from the world. Never coming out of my apartment, never interacting with any but a chosen few!”

Max snapped his head toward her as if he were going to respond, but she swept on, not pausing.

“It’s no wonder you don’t know what to do when you’re faced with other people,” Nicole declared. “You’re more a machine than a person! Do you have
feelings?
Do you even have a heart?”

“So I’m some kind of machine, am I?” he asked thickly. “Because I don’t parade my emotions around like a banner, you get to act like I don’t have any?”

“Yes!” she declared rashly. “If I never see any feelings except icy, cold contempt, I’m going to assume you don’t have any other feelings—“

“Fine,” Max snarled. “Here’s some feelings for you.”

Without warning, he yanked her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. Angrily, he kissed her, his mouth hard and hot, hungry and persuasive.

It was as if she were plunged into a simmering pool, over her head in feelings. Suddenly, she was drowning in him. Her senses swamped and hungry, her heart pounding against her chest as if trying to get free. Nicole clutched at him, his suit jacket bunching beneath her eager fingers.

His fierce mouth plundered hers, mated with her over and over, kisses blurring into one another. As if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he’d ached to kiss her again as she had him.

Restraint cast aside, she pulled him closer, meeting each kiss, each shifting of his mouth. Every frustration he’d ever roused in her, every crazy impulse she’d ever known—all erupted in this moment. She hated him, she wanted him. She needed his mouth on hers like this forever.

Powerful arms around her, drawing her tight against his body, he drugged her with his seeking mouth. Open and hungry, he kissed her, his head angled, his tongue hot against her own. Fitting herself against him as best she could in the confined space of the cab, she felt her bones melting, her body caught in the magic of his kiss. He was a sorcerer, a magician, a madman she couldn’t understand, but this…this kiss was everything.

And then it was gone.

Max drew back from her, unwrapped his hold and pushed back in the far corner of the seat. Dazed still from the hunger that had exploded between them, she could only look at him, her mouth feeling bruised and bereft all at once.

“Damn you,” he muttered. “You’re driving me insane.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Flung out of his embrace, the fire still raging inside of her, Nicole sat next to him on the back seat of the cab, feeling like a landed fish. She leaned back against the seat, just trying to settle her thundering, pounding heart.

“Oh.” Nicole sat limply, her eyes wide, but seeing nothing as she tried to comprehend what was happening between them. First, their explosive argument, then…that kiss! Then….