She felt sick, mostly at herself, she admitted; she had guessed what sort of man Max was from the beginning, had no excuse for what had just happened between them.
‘But the feeling of lust, thank goodness, isn’t confined to one person,’ Max continued dismissively. ‘Besides, January—’ his gaze was once again mocking ‘—I have a feeling that if either of us isn’t going to sleep tonight it’s going to be you!’ He looked across at her challengingly.
She had to get out of here. Away from Max. Away from this room, and the memory of how close they had come to making love…!
‘My conscience is clear, Max—how about yours?’ she scorned, head held high.
He grimaced dismissively. ‘The same.’
She gave a disgusted shake of her head. ‘Then you must have a very different idea of what I consider acceptable behaviour!’
He shrugged. ‘For someone who was leaving at least five minutes ago, you don’t seem in any particular hurry to do so?’ He quirked mocking brows.
January drew in a sharp breath at his taunt. ‘Don’t worry, Max—I’m going. And I never want to see you again!’ She breathed agitatedly.
He gave a grim smile. ‘No chance of that happening, I’m afraid, January,’ he drawled. ‘After all, I’m still negotiating on behalf of the Marshall Corporation to buy your family farm.’
‘Over my dead body!’ she told him with feeling.
‘If you insist on driving in snowstorms—that might very well be the case,’ he mocked dryly.
She had to go. Now. Before she totally humiliated herself and began to cry!
‘Take care, January,’ Max murmured softly. ‘I hope you sleep well,’ he added tauntingly.
She gave a pained frown at this last comment, turning sharply on her heel and almost running from the room, only lingering long enough to grab her coat from the floor where it had fallen before hurrying from the hotel suite as if the devil himself were at her heels.
He was hateful. Horrible. The most horrible man she had ever met in her life!
How could she have been so stupid?
How could she have so totally misjudged a person?
How—?
‘January…?’
She looked up frowningly as she crossed the reception area of the hotel, her brow clearing slightly as she recognized John, the barman, obviously just coming in for his evening shift.
He looked at her concernedly. ‘Hey, are you okay?’
Okay? She might never be ‘okay’ again!
‘Fine,’ she assured him huskily, hoping she didn’t look as bad as she felt.
She had straightened her hair a little while travelling down in the lift, but she hadn’t been able to do anything about the paleness of her face, or that slightly bruised look to her lips.
‘You don’t look okay.’ Obviously John wasn’t fooled for a minute, still frowning his concern. ‘Come through to the bar and have a brandy,’ he encouraged worriedly.
She gave a humourless laugh, shaking her head. ‘I won’t, if you don’t mind. I’ve already had one accident today,’ she explained ruefully. ‘My sister will kill me if I prang her car, too!’
His eyes widened. ‘You’ve been involved in an accident?’
‘Only with a ditch.’ She grimaced. ‘I really do have to go, John,’ she apologized lightly. ‘Is it still snowing?’ She really had no idea how long she had been in Max’s hotel suite, or what the weather was like, either!
‘No, it’s stopped,’ John told her distractedly. ‘You really don’t look well, January, are you sure you wouldn’t like me to get someone to take over in the bar for me for a couple of hours and drive you home?’
‘That’s very kind of you.’ She touched his arm gratefully. ‘But no,’ she insisted. ‘I drove here, I can drive back.’