Reckless Encounter Read online

  He wanted another night with her.

  A tremor ran through Elena. Deep inside, a wheel on anticipation began to spin, but she stamped ruthlessly on it. She needed a clear head now. Instead of indulging in more torrid fantasies, she needed to deal with the situation and protect her professional reputation.

  She ought to give the check back to Max Glaser and say it had been a prank, a bet she’d made with girlfriends, a one-time dare never to be repeated. Or, perhaps she could deny ever having met him before, tell him that he must be mistaken and she had no idea what he was talking about. Or…Elena swallowed, trying to control the trembling in her body.

  She could take up his invitation and keep the money.

  To even think about it was madness.

  Elena folded the check and slipped it back into her purse. As she turned to leave, the restroom door opened, and Nancy Anderson entered. The petite blonde had been the assistant shared by four lawyers in the commercial section, including both Elena and Steven.

  “Hello Nancy,” Elena said, making an effort to hide her agitation.

  The secretary came to a halt. She had an old-fashioned sense of style that made her look more like an aging spinster than a pretty girl in her twenties. With an alarmed flicker of her gaze, Nancy surveyed the narrow space in the restroom, and then she darted past Elena toward the stalls, barely muttering a greeting.

  Staring after the girl in dismay, Elena blinked back tears. They had always got on well, and it pained her to discover that her forced departure from the firm had made her into an outcast, someone that former coworkers preferred to avoid.

  Just before the door of the stall slammed shut, Nancy paused and shot her a look through the narrow gap. It was an odd look, an angry scowl full of hostility, mixed with a flash of defiant triumph.

  Puzzled, Elena made her way out into the parking lot.

  As she settled into her dark blue Toyota, she allowed her thoughts to return to the meeting with Max Glaser. Despite her determination to avoid any personal involvement with him, excitement was already knotting up inside her, and deep down she knew that at seven o’clock that night she’d find herself at the Fitzroy Hotel.

  ****

  Too restless to go back to her office, Elena drove home instead. Rather than leaving the car in the drive, she got out to lift the door on the attached garage and parked inside. For the rest of the afternoon, she roamed around the modest ranch house and the tiny backyard, identifying chores that needed doing and abandoning them the instant she had started.

  For four months, Max Glaser had plagued her thoughts, until he had almost become an obsession, a mythical creature instead of a man of flesh and blood. Having come face to face with him today had shattered her carefully guarded emotional balance.

  She was a cool person. Elena Rodriquez, the ice queen. She’d heard men say that, some behind her back, some straight to her face, and what had been intended as an insult had filled her with satisfaction and a sense of loyalty, of being a dutiful daughter.

  A long time ago, a smooth-talking, rich man had betrayed her mother, leaving Maria Rodriquez pregnant and broke and alone. The result had been Elena, and her mother had made it her mission in life to ensure that her daughter avoided the same fate.

  Caution had been drummed into Elena during her teenage years.

  When a girl is poor and pretty like you, Elenita, men want to use you. You can’t trust them. Don’t believe the pretty lies they tell you. When they’ve had what they want, they’ll be gone, and you’ll be left alone, maybe with a baby growing in your belly.

  And Elena had listened well and put those sermons into practice. She had trusted no man—not the rich boys from uptown, nor the dangerous ones from her own neighborhood. She’d fought her way out of the slums with guts and intelligence and determination, waiting tables to supplement the scholarships that had helped her through college and law school.

  When she got her first job at McKenzie and Harris, she’d met Steven McKenzie and had finally let her guard down. That had been a mistake—the biggest one she could have made. She had learned that even when she was a respected professional, and even when the pretty promises came with a diamond ring, she still must not trust men.

  Instead of taking another chance, she had kept aloof, repressing her sexual needs. But that night, every ounce of longing and need inside her had erupted into an uncontrollable burst of passion. How much of what happened between them had been the extraordinary circumstances, and how much of it had been her reaction to Max Glaser as a man?

  What would happen if she agreed to one more night with him? Surely, there was a chance that the whole affair might turn tawdry and awkward, ruining the thrilling memory of that first night. Moreover, now that they were working together, it would be inappropriate to mix personal involvement with a business relationship. Surely, her history with Steven had taught her that.

  It crossed her mind to call the Fitzroy Hotel and decline the invitation, but Elena knew it would serve no purpose to refuse to see Max now. It was better to settle the situation right away. She’d obey his summons and meet him at seven o’clock. She’d have dinner, hand back his check, discuss the business of the lease agreements, and get home before the clock struck nine. Anything else would be playing with fire.

  ****

  She was early.

  Her high heels clicking like a nervous heartbeat, Elena crossed the marble floor of the minimalist lobby of the Fitzroy Hotel and sat down at the bar to wait. It was a quiet night, with most of the stools along the black granite counter vacant. Through the floor to ceiling windows, she could see the setting sun gild the cityscape outside.

  An almost unbearable tension thrummed inside her. Despite the cool air that blew through the ceiling vents, hot flushes rippled over her skin.

  She had dressed with extra care in a pale green silk dress. Flimsy at the top, the delicate fabric clung to her curves, and the hem flowed down to her ankles. Don’t even think about it, she had told herself as she got ready. Don’t think about him in that way. But every mile in the taxi on the way over, the image of a naked Max Glaser had filled her mind.

  She needed something to happen, anything, as long as it would break the suspense of the moment. She ordered white wine, and when it arrived she clutched the chilled glass with her unsteady fingers, taking nervous gulps, facing away from the entrance. All of a sudden her skin tingled. She hadn’t seen or heard anything, but somehow she knew that Max Glaser was in the room, and soon he would be by her side.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  The gravelly voice that murmured into her ear stroked her like crushed velvet. In panic, Elena lowered the wineglass on the counter, rather than take the risk of spilling the contents if her hands shook too much.

  She turned around to find Max Glaser standing behind her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. He wore the same dark suit he’d worn earlier, but the white shirt was fresh, and from the damp strands at his hairline she guessed that he had taken a shower only moments ago.

  Elena searched for the right tone of a casual greeting between business associates, something to match the tone of his words. Thank you for coming, he’d said. She caught on to the double entendre in his words and nearly choked. Even if she’d been able to think of something to say, the words would have remained stuck in her throat.

  The approaching waiter broke the silence. “Would you like a drink in the bar, sir, or would you like to move to your table?”

  “We’d like to take our table,” Max replied. “I reserved a booth by the window.”

  Elena crossed the floor in silence. Every cell in her body thrummed with awareness of Max—the faint scent of cigar smoke that clung to his suit, the heavy tread of his footsteps, the light pressure of his hand on the small of her back as he guided her along.

  As soon as the waiter had left them, after placing leather-bound menus in front of them, Max fixed his fierce dark eyes upon her.

  “Why did yo
u do it?” he asked bluntly.

  Elena leaned back in the padded seat. Heat flared on her face. “I don’t really know,” she admitted. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.” She attempted a nonchalant shrug and hid behind the flippant comment. So much for wishing to pretend it never happened, she thought bitterly, irritation surging through her at the direct attack that had caught her off guard.

  “More importantly, will you do it again, tonight?” Max said, the intensity of his gaze not showing any signs of wavering.

  “Please,” Elena said, a note of uncertainty in her voice. “I don’t really want to talk about it. Could we just have dinner?”

  Max nodded. “Sorry. I’ve been thinking about you and hoping to locate you since that night. I wanted to have some time to adjust to the disappointment if your answer is going to be no.” He picked up the menu in front of him and flicked through the pages.

  Elena contemplated him. Nobody could read a menu that fast. She realized that he was nervous too. She twirled her glass in her hand, suddenly feeling brave, able to put her thoughts into words. “It might not be the same,” she said softly. “Perhaps that night was unique, two strangers, and exactly the right juxtaposition of the planets. If we do it again, it might turn out ordinary, which would ruin the memory of that night.”

  His gaze flicked up to her face and then returned to study the open page on the menu. After a second, he snapped the leather-bound folder shut and laid it on the table. “There’s only one way to find out.” He stood and held his hand out to her. “We can eat later.”

  Desire swamped Elena, dragging her into a current filled with dark and dangerous promises. She looked at Max across the table, and suddenly a jumble of images from that night flashed through her mind. She could hear her own whimpering, like an echo in her ears, and taste the spicy flavor of his skin on her tongue. She could remember how his hands had felt on her breasts, what it had been like to have him thrusting into her, hard and fast and deep.

  Feeling adrift under a will stronger than hers, Elena rose to her feet. She laced her fingers into Max’s and drew confidence from the warmth of his strong hand as he led her toward the bank of elevators and ushered her inside one as soon as the doors slid open.

  Just before the doors closed again, a group of Japanese tourists crammed into the small space, chattering in loud voices. Pushed into a corner, Elena stood in silence beside Max. She could feel his arm press against her side, as firm as a bar of steel.

  It made her heart hammer in a frantic beat to have him standing so close, his muscular body towering over her. Alarm and excitement churned in equal measure inside her. She looked down and saw the hem of her green silk dress fluttering as a fine trembling seized her limbs. Then the elevator came to a stop. Forging a way through the crowd, Max propelled her out and along the corridor, and all the while the roaring sounds of panic filled her ears.

  ****

  Max inserted the key in the lock, annoyed to find that his hands were unsteady. Damn, the woman really had gotten under his skin. One more night with her should cure him of the affliction. He would recover his usual mental balance, and she would become just another lawyer, necessary to conduct business but not worth a second thought.

  He could barely tolerate the way he’d felt in the last four months, as if he’d somehow been abandoned again, the way he’d been cast aside as an infant. His relationships with people—all people, not just women—were based on the foundation of never allowing anyone close enough to give them a chance to make him suffer by leaving him.

  With her disappearing act, Elena Rodriquez had torn open ancient wounds.

  His jaw clenched as he fought to ignore the arrow of remembered childhood pain that only rarely surfaced to pierce the front of his confidence. A hard frown settled on his face. What the hell did it matter if he didn’t know where he came from? He knew who he’d grown into—who he was now. He’d carved himself a world in which he belonged, if only because he owned everything in it.

  From the corner of his eye, Max noticed Elena studying him. She flinched, and he knew that she had caught the twist of anger and bitterness on his face. He expelled a sigh, and forced his scowling expression to ease into a bland smile.

  “Elena—” he began, but she cut him off.

  “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I can’t do this. I simply can’t.”

  And she turned from him and fled. The hem of her long green dress flapped around her feet as she rushed all the way to the far end of the corridor, in search of the door to the stairwell, so she could get away from him without having to wait for the elevator to arrive.

  She was leaving him. Again.

  Max conquered the urge to run after her, to call out and plead for her to stay, or at least to give him the courtesy of saying goodbye. He hated it when people walked off without a proper farewell. But instead of chasing her, he pushed the door to his hotel room open and went inside. After pulling off his suit jacket, he took out a handful of miniature bottles from the bar and spent the evening steeped in morose memories about his past.

  Chapter Three

  After refusing to spend the night with Max Glaser, Elena had half expected to get a message telling her that Mr. Glaser preferred to be represented by another lawyer. Instead, she received an email with an accelerated timetable for the planned expansion of the MovieMax chain.

  The first new store location was in Texas, in a small town halfway between El Paso and San Antonio. Elena traveled down with the operations director of MovieMax, a tall, lean man in his late thirties called Joe Vanstone. She suppressed the urge to question him about their boss, in case Joe Vanstone was not the type to engage in gossip.

  Once at their destination, Elena struggled to get through the restless nights in a noisy hotel, the only accommodation the town offered, and bland meals at a chain restaurant. The local lawyer representing the landlord had an aggressive manner. He conducted business negotiations like courtroom battles, which caused her stress levels to soar.

  By the fourth day, Elena and Joe Vanstone were behind schedule. Max Glaser was arriving on the six o’clock flight. He expected to inspect the premises, review the terms and conditions of the lease, and fly out in the morning after having signed the agreement.

  But they were not ready.

  Max’s flight was delayed, and it was half past eight when they met him at the airport. His instructions had been not to park in the short stay lot but to wait for him in the drop-off zone, which would allow for a quicker getaway. When he walked through the doors into the hot Texas evening, the air of gloom around him seemed to dull the last rays of the setting sun. As soon as they set off toward the hotel, it became clear that Max Glaser was in a foul mood.

  “What the hell do you mean you don’t have a deal?” he growled. “Why didn’t you call me and tell me not to bother coming down? Are you expecting me to sort out the mess for you? I pay you to deal with the crap, not to hand it to me on a plate.”

  Joe drove with exaggerated concentration, staring ahead is if they were in the middle of a blizzard. Elena, sitting on the back seat behind Joe, saw the tension in his stiff neck.

  “I’m afraid the delay is with the legal side, so it really is my fault,” she said. “The space is fine, and it is in a prime location. Joe did a good job finding the premises.”

  “Joe’s responsible for not only finding the premises, but making sure the other party is interested in cutting a deal. By now he ought to have learned how to weed out the time wasters.” The venom in Max’s tone was no longer so sharp, and Elena saw Joe’s shoulders drop an inch.

  They dined at ‘Katie’s Kitchen’, a small restaurant on Main Street billed as traditional Texan home cooking. Max had spotted the place as they drove past and picked it because it was the closest to the hotel. Cozy and intimate, decorated with potted plants, country and western music playing quietly on the background, the place was more suited for romantic evenings out than business dinners.

  They sat down at a
table overlooking the rear garden, and when the owner pointed out she didn’t have a license to serve alcohol, Joe’s shoulders grew more rigid than an ironing board. Max dispatched him to find the nearest liquor store. As Joe slunk out through the entrance, Elena fleetingly wondered if it would be the last they would see of him that night.

  Max tossed the plastic coated menu back on the table after only a cursory glance. “So, what’s the problem?” he asked.

  Elena shrugged. “The other lawyer is being difficult. He wants to show that big city folks can’t mess with him. He’s trying to convince the landlord that he is being protected from the devil himself.” She glanced at Max from the corner of her eye. “Your arrival might just prove his point.”

  Max didn’t take the bait. A muscle tightened in his jaw, that’s all, and a small bead of perspiration by his brow gave away the effort he was making to contain his temper. “And you haven’t been able to diffuse the situation?” he asked.

  “No. The other lawyer, Hamish Delancey, doesn’t seem to be hugely interested in what I have to say. He is far more interested in hearing his own voice, which makes it difficult to have a productive conversation.”

  Max gave a derisive snort. “I thought you have tricks in your bag that are very effective in getting a man’s attention, and you are not afraid to put them to use. Provided, of course, the price is right. Let me know how much I need to pay you to get the problem solved.”

  Elena went numb, as if she’d been plunged into a vat of freezing water. At first she thought she’d misunderstood. She ran through the comment in her mind. The message was unmistakable. You’re a whore, and if I pay you enough, you’ll sleep with any man. She gritted her teeth as she accepted that her night with Max Glaser had been a huge mistake, for which she’d pay with endless humiliation.

  She’d stashed his check away in a desk drawer, to stay hidden for six months, until it expired and the bank would no longer honor it for payment. Then she intended to hold on to it as a keepsake, like a concert program, or a ticket to a sporting event. Now she wished that she had the check in her purse, so she could whip it out and tear it up and throw the pieces at his scowling face.