He narrowed his gaze at her sudden sugary tone. She was up to something for sure. “Anything for you, princess. You don’t know that yet, but you will.”
“You do realize I just ended a long-term relationship, right? Add to that, jetlag and exhaustion… I think I just need to get some sleep.”
He grinned. Then he laughed.
“What’s so funny?” She folded her arms across her chest, and he did his best not to ogle her cleavage, which protruded enticingly from behind the flimsy silk.
“You are. You really think you’re getting rid of me that easily?”
“A girl can hope.” She turned her back to him and headed inside the large apartment, her heels clicking along the marble floors.
Without waiting for an invitation that wouldn’t be coming, Max grabbed her luggage and followed, catching up with her in the living room. “Want these in the master?” he asked.
She pursed her lips at him, then sighed. “No. I’ll stay in the guest room. It already has all my things. First open doorway on the right,” she said begrudgingly and gestured down the hall.
He entered the overly large bedroom suite with wall-to-wall windows on one side surrounded by light curtains and another set of huge windows on the adjoining wall. By the bed, Georgia O’Keefe paintings decorated the room, giving the space a bright, beautiful look. Pure Lucy.
“You decorated this,” he said, knowing she’d followed him in. She stood in the doorway, watching him warily.
She inclined her head. “Gabe wanted me to be comfortable when I stayed here.” She stepped inside and leaned against the nearest peach-colored wall.
Her guard was up but he’d expected that. “I’d bet you decorated the whole apartment.”
“Good guess.”
“Not a guess. It has your signature lightness,” he explained. He’d known the first time he visited that the place had Lucy’s touch.
A flash of appreciation flickered across her face. “You noticed.”
“I notice everything about you, Lucy.” He stalked toward her, intent on making a point. “Just because I never acted on it before doesn’t mean I wasn’t completely aware.” He cornered her between his body and the wall, inhaling her scent.
She trembled, as visibly affected by his nearness as he was by hers. “Max,” she whispered.
Her soft skin beckoned to him, and he ran a finger down her cheek. It took all his willpower to hold back from taking things further, from picking her up and tying her to that frilly bed so she couldn’t run from her own feelings. Instead he knew he had to give her time.
“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “We’re going to take it slow.” It might kill him, but he’d get her to the point where she could face her feelings and fears. And he’d be there with her every step of the way.
“To start with, I’m going to send you information on the location for Savage in Soho.”
Her eyes lit up, giving him hope she’d take the job. “Are you going to tell me about your chef?”
“Sebastian Del Toro.” He couldn’t help the grin on his face as he told her.
“He came in second on The Cooking Competition show this past summer!”
“That’s him,” Max said.
She’d watched the show often, enjoying all the antics of the cast. “He would have come in first if they could have proved the guy in first place cheated, right?”
Max nodded.
“That is amazing! How’d you snag him? I read that everyone was trying to lure him in.”
“Turns out we go way back. I know him from college.” They were close friends; both shared a love of the food industry and had stayed in touch. “He’s talented and deserved to win. But then he’d be running a different New York restaurant and not coming to work for me. And I’m a guaranteed success.”
She shook her head and grinned. “I’m really impressed. This restaurant is going to be a hit.”
Max nodded because he agreed and was pleased she saw things his way. “I’ll forward you the information so you can see the vision Sebastian and I share. That way you can decide if the project excites you.”