Next time she had an impulse like this, she would ignore it—no matter how handsomely intriguing the man was!
‘More than adequately,’ he confirmed derisively. ‘And I have to say, January, it’s very unusual to meet a woman with such an honest view to what everyone else chooses to romantically call love.’
January eyed him warily; she didn’t think she had actually said that was the way she felt towards falling in love! ‘It is?’
‘It is,’ he confirmed softly. ‘But—’
‘January, I’m really sorry to interrupt.’ John, the barman, appeared beside their table.
‘Not at all.’ She turned to him with a certain amount of relief. ‘Is it time for me to go back on?’ she asked hopefully; she really had had enough of this conversation. And Max…
John grimaced. ‘I just thought I should let you know Meridew is on the prowl again,’ he warned, referring to the over-efficient manager of the hotel who had just strolled into the lounge bar, his gaze sweeping critically over the room.
Strictly speaking January wasn’t exactly a member of the hotel staff, but that didn’t stop Peter Meridew, the hotel manager, having his say if he was displeased about something. January had never tested him before on having a drink with one of the hotel guests, but perhaps that came under the heading of ‘displeasing’ him? Whatever, January needed this job too much to risk losing it over a man she would never see again after this evening.
‘Thanks, John.’ She smiled up at him before turning back to Max. ‘I really do have to go.’ She managed to keep her voice evenly unemotional as she prepared to leave.
Max’s gaze narrowed. ‘Would you like me to have a word with him?’
‘Who—? Certainly not,’ she protested frowningly as she saw he was now looking at the hotel manager. Although no doubt a word in Peter’s ear from this assuredly arrogant man would ensure that no word was ever mentioned to her about sitting down to have a drink with him! ‘It’s time for me to go back on, anyway,’ she dismissed lightly.
Max nodded. ‘I’ll be waiting here when you’ve finished.’
January opened her mouth to protest for a third time, and then thought better of it; what was the point? Besides, she was quite capable of slipping quietly away at the end of the evening without this man even being aware she had done so…
She stood up. ‘Thank you for the champagne.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He nodded.
January was aware of him once again watching her as she crossed the room to the piano, knowing he
would see a tall, beautiful brunette in a sexy black dress. But that was all he would see—because he knew nothing else about her but her name.
Max should see her at half-past six tomorrow morning, up to her wellington-booted ankles in mud, as she trekked through the farmyard to the cow shed for early milking!
What on earth did he think he was doing? Max remonstrated with himself with an inward groan.
Was he trying to frighten the woman away before he even had chance to get to know her? Or—more importantly!—her him? If he was, he was certainly succeeding!
He hadn’t wanted to come on this particular business trip at all, would have been quite happy to stay where he was until after the New Year, had been enjoying the mild, if unsuccessful, flirtation with the actress April Robine, a woman at least ten years older than his own thirty-seven, but looking at least twenty years younger than her actual age.
But it had been pointed out to him quite strongly, by his friend and employer, that these negotiations needed to be settled as quickly as possible, and it was his job, after all. Never mind the fact that Jude was as interested in April Robine as he was—and probably with more success, if he knew Jude. Which he did. Only too well.
How could Max possibly have known that a chance drink in the piano-bar of the hotel he was staying in would completely erase April, and every other woman he had ever known, from his mind, would result in his seeing the one woman he knew he had to have for his own?
Well…for a time, anyway; if he was honest with himself there wasn’t a woman in the world he wanted permanently in his life. No matter how beautiful. And January was incredibly beautiful.
She was perfect, from the top of her ebony head to the soles of her delicate feet in those ridiculously strappy sandals she was wearing.
So perfect that he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her the whole time he had been sitting here. So perfect that he had been uncharacteristically tongue-tied in her company. Except when he had asked her if she believed in love at first sight…
And been totally stunned—if pleasantly surprised!—by the honesty of the answer she had given him.
But, then, he had been stunned in one way or another since the moment he’d first looked at her, felt as if he had been punched in the stomach then, felt completely poleaxed now that he had actually spoken to her, her voice huskily sexy, her face even more beautiful close to, and as for her body…!
Perhaps he had better not dwell on the wonder of her willowy body just now; after all, it wasn’t even midnight yet, which meant there were at least another three hours or so before he could take her out of here.
They were the longest three hours of his life, Max decided as he waited impatiently for January to play her final song. He hadn’t even been able to get close to her when the clocks had struck midnight, had been forced to watch from afar as she’d made the countdown and had then been surrounded by well-wishers. Most of them male, he had noted with dark disapproval. All of whom he had wanted to punch on the nose as they’d claimed a New Year kiss from her.