Almost Forever Read online

  Max carried all the trays in, then became immersed in a conversation with Harmon, Steve and several other men. Periodically his eyes sought out Claire, wherever she was in the room, as if reassuring himself that she wasn’t in need of him.

  Claire sipped on a margarita and surreptitiously checked the time, wondering when they would be able to leave. The cocktail party wasn’t as bad as she’d feared, but she was tired. The pressure of the hectic day, the hectic week, was telling on her. Bracing herself, she tried to concentrate on the conversation around her.

  Someone turned on the stereo, but since Harmon was an ardent blues fan, the selection was limited. The smoky, mournful wail of a saxophone lured several people into dancing. Claire danced with Martine’s law partner, then with her father’s best friend, then with an old friend from school. She was on her second margarita when it was taken from her hand, placed on the table, and Max turned her into his arms.

  “You’re tired, aren’t you?” he asked as they swayed to the low music.

  “Exhausted. If tomorrow weren’t Friday, I don’t think I could make it.”

  “Are you ready to leave?”

  “More than ready. Have you seen Mother lately?”

  “She’s back in the kitchen, I think. The nation’s dairy farmers would be in ecstasy if they could see the amount of cheese that has been consumed tonight,” he said dryly.

  “You ate your share, I noticed.”

  His mouth quirked. “I burn off the calories.”

  Sighing, she stepped back from his embrace. “Let’s find Mother. I think we’ve stayed long enough to be polite.”

  Alma was indeed in the kitchen, dicing cheese into another heap of small squares. She looked up when they entered, and a mixture of dismay and resignation crossed her features. “Claire, you can’t be leaving!” she protested. “It’s still early.”

  “I know, but tomorrow’s a working day.” Claire leaned forward to kiss her mother’s cheek. “I’ve enjoyed myself. Really.”

  Alma looked at Max for reinforcement. “Can’t you get her to stay a little longer? She has that stubborn look, and I know she won’t listen to me.”

  Max’s arm went around Claire’s waist, and he, too, bent to kiss Alma’s cheek. “That isn’t a stubborn look—it’s a tired look,” he explained easily, employing his charm as he smiled at Alma, pacifying her. “It’s my fault. I’ve had her out every night this week, and the lack of sleep is catching up with her.”

  It worked, but then, Claire had never doubted him. Alma was beaming at him. “Oh, all right, take her home. You must come back—we haven’t really had a chance to get to know you.”

  “Soon,” he promised.

  It was a silent drive back to Claire’s apartment, but when she offered him coffee he came inside with her. After making the coffee and carrying the cups into the living room, they sat on the couch and sipped quietly. Claire kicked off her shoes, sighing in relief and wiggling her toes.

  Max’s gaze was on her slender feet, but his mind was on other matters. “What happened that you had to work late today?”

  “Everything. It was just one of those days, and it didn’t help that Sam was so edgy. He’s almost certain there’s going to be a takeover attempt, and soon—there’s been increasing trading in our stock. Even though he has an ace in the hole, the waiting and wondering are nerve-racking.”

  “What’s his ace in the hole?” Max asked, his voice sleepy, almost disinterested.

  It was a new situation for Claire, actually being able to sit down and discuss her day at work with someone. She had never talked about her day before—she couldn’t remember if anyone had ever asked. Small talk was a subtle sort of intimacy, letting someone into her mind by sharing the details of her life with them, and she had always instinctively kept to herself. But it was so easy to talk to Max. He listened, but he didn’t make a big deal of it.

  “Real estate,” she said, smiling a little. His lashes lifted to reveal a lazy gleam of interest. “I thought that might interest you.”

  “Ummm,” he said, an indistinct sound of agreement.

  “Sam invested in some property that has quadrupled in value. The reappraisal came in today, and it was even better than he’d hoped.”

  “Land values can do that. They go up and down like a roller-coaster. The trick is to buy just before the price bottoms out, and sell just before it goes over the top. The value must really be astronomical to be enough to protect him against a takeover.” He sat up more alertly and finished his coffee.

  “I’ll get you a refill,” Claire said, getting up and going into the kitchen before he could refuse. She reappeared almost immediately with the pot, and Max watched her walk toward him, her slender body moving gracefully. She looked so quiet and restrained, but he knew what was beneath that ladylike dress. He’d seen the satin panties, the shockingly sexy garter belt and filmy hosiery. A garter belt, for God’s sake! His body jolted with response now just as it had then, and he clenched his teeth. He’d had a difficult time keeping his mind off her underwear and his hands off her body. He kept seeing her with that dress over her head, baring her slender hips and legs to his view. The need to take her to bed was growing out of control, fed by frustration that she was so unaware of him as a man and by anger that she would freeze up on him if he tried to change the situation. He wasn’t accustomed to abstinence, and he didn’t like it one damned bit.

  Claire picked up the conversation where they had left off, sitting down beside him again. “I wouldn’t call the land value astronomical, but we’re a small enough company that it doesn’t have to be. Anyone making a bid for the company is going to come short by several million dollars.”

  He jerked his thoughts back to what she was saying. Damn it, she was practically handing him the information he needed on a silver platter, and he couldn’t keep his mind on the conversation. He wanted very much to stretch her out on the couch and lift that dress over her head again, to run his hands over her and feel the softness of her skin, but that would have to come later.

  “How much was the appraisal?” he asked. He watched her closely, wondering if she would answer him. It was a bold move, asking outright for the information he needed, but she had already given him the major part of it, and the actual appraisal would only fill in the details. He kept his face carefully blank, hiding his intense interest in her answer.

  “In the millions.”

  Damn, that would make a difference! “What did they do? Find oil on it?” he muttered.

  She laughed. “Close.”

  Mingled satisfaction and relief filled him; the job was done. It hadn’t taken long, and had been relatively easy. The difficult part had been restraining himself from making a move on Claire and scaring her off, but now the job was out of the way and he could concentrate on her. She could try hiding behind that shell of hers, but he was free to pursue his own interests now, and Claire was his interest. He wanted her. He had no doubt that he would have her. He was a master at seduction, and no woman had ever resisted him for long when he made the effort to charm her into his bed. But with Claire, he’d been handicapped by his professional concerns, forced to restrain himself. She was already accustomed to his company, and she had come to accept his casual touches. It wouldn’t be long before she was also accepting the most intimate touches between a man and a woman.

  His hunger, his need, for her were becoming more urgent. It wasn’t just the physical need for release, though that was strong enough—he wasn’t accustomed to celibacy. No, his strongest need was the primitive urge to bind her to him now, before she found out the truth, but he found himself uncharacteristically hesitant, his usual self-assurance fading. What if this wasn’t the right time? What if she rebuffed him? What if she retreated completely? He would have lost even her friendship, and to his surprise he wanted her friendship very much, as much as he wanted her physically. He wanted all of her, her mind as well as her body.

  She smothered a yawn, and he laughed, reaching out