Neesa Hart - Who Gets To Marry Max?

He tipped his head so his mouth was a hairbreadth from hers. “You’re about to experience it firsthand.”

Her knees almost buckled. “I might not survive.”

He pressed a swift kiss to her lips. “Don’t worry,” he said again. “You won’t get hurt. I promise.”

Her lips burned from the slight contact, but the words penetrated the fog in her brain to leave her with an uneasy feeling. “You can’t guarantee that.”

He evidently decided to ignore her protest. He shrugged. “I’ll let you make the choice, Sidney. Just don’t wait too long to make it.”

Or, she thought, you’ll make it for me.

To her utter relief, Sidney barely saw Max for the rest of the day. She had ample time to consider her reaction to the man as she and her staff prepared for the evening’s event. Max’s guests proved to be relatively undemanding during the daylight hours, which, Sidney considered, was a good thing. In her current muddle, she wasn’t certain she could have adequately handled a major crisis.

More than once, she chided herself for an overactive imagination when Max’s staff seemed to study her with undue curiosity. For the most part, she’d known these people for years through her relationship with her uncle. They knew of her long history with the Loden family, and surely found nothing odd about her third-floor rendezvous with their boss. After all, Philip had left her in charge for the weekend. Everyone knew it. Guilt alone was making her think everyone knew she harbored thoughts of jumping their boss’s bones.

One of the housemaids sauntered by, offering Sidney a jaunty smile. “Cripes,” Sidney mumbled to herself. “Two more days of this and they’ll have to have me committed.” More likely, two more days of close proximity to Max and she’d turn into a complete simpleton. He had that effect on her. He enveloped her. How in the world, she wondered more than once, could anyone fail to notice the way the man sucked up all the available oxygen and space in a room. He was like a human firecracker—he inspired awe when properly handled, and he had the potential to be positively deadly.

Sidney had worked herself into a nervous sweat by the time she put the finishing touches on a tray of handmade chocolates. The combination of stainless steel and granite in Max’s ultramodern kitchen did nothing to chill the slight fever on her flesh.

Unmistakably strong, tanned hands came from behind to rest on either side of her, pinning her to the counter. Sidney pulled in a ragged breath and tried not to surrender to the urge to melt into him.

Max whispered against her ear, “I hope you brought something to wear to the party tonight.” His breath fanned her face.

Sidney kept her voice light. “My uniform.”

He nuzzled her ear. “I’d rather you attended. I’m looking forward to—” he paused almost imperceptibly “—dancing with you.”

“I don’t let my staff fraternize with guests.”

“You’re the boss.” He twined a curl of her hair around his forefinger. “You get to make your own rules.”

“I like to set an example.”

“Sidney—”

She turned to face him. “Not now, Max. I’m busy.”

He licked a dollop of chocolate from her fingertips. “Soon, Sidney. I’m not a very patient man.”

“You told me you’d let me decide.”

He looked like he wanted to argue. Instead, he took her hand in his and pressed it to his chest. “Dance with me tonight,” he murmured.

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