Even more upset now than before and deciding not to postpone the inevitable, Erin pressed the button that would accept the call while she turned and walked from the room. There was no damn way she was having this conversation in front of Max. “Hello?”
Damian’s voice blasted her immediately. “Erin? What the hell is going on?”
As she walked up the stairway that would lead her to the room where she’d slept, she attempted to keep her voice neutral. “Calm down, Damian.”
“Calm down? Calm down?” he roared.
There was only one way she could allow this conversation to go—exactly as Max predicted she would. “Well, you could congratulate me,” she suggested as she shut the door and sank down onto the middle of the bed halfheartedly, hating the web of lies and half-truths she was about to spin to her oldest—and most protective—brother.
“Congratulate you?” Erin heard something slam in the background—Damian was obviously finding it hard to get himself under control. “Honey, do you know who Maximo Villarreal is?”
She let out a resigned sigh. Did she ever. “Yes. He’s an Argentinian businessman. He told me he knows of the Rule Corp—so, I’m sure you know of him as well.”
“How did you meet him?” her brother all but snarled.
Erin pulled a pillow to her chest and hugged it. “By chance. In a restaurant in Vegas.”
“By chance?” he snorted disdainfully.
It didn’t sound as if Damian believed that for a second, and who could blame him? “Yeah—just like you’d meet anybody,” she answered.
“Look, I’m trying to control myself here, but there’s no way that you and he met by chance,” her brother bit out.
“How do you figure? What else could it have been other than coincidental?” she challenged.
“Honey—I know you’re smart—and pretty,” he said in a tone that said he was trying to hold himself in check. “But it seems too unreal that the two of you would just meet like that. Have you considered he might have sought you out deliberately?”
Flying by the seat of her pants and only concerned for the moment that Max didn’t get his damn revenge through her, she set out to speak in calm tones to her brother. “For what reason?”
“To get to us.”
Knowing exactly who ‘us’ was, she didn’t pretend otherwise. “Why would he want to do that?”
Damian didn’t answer her question, only seemed to set out to soothe her. Like that would work. “Listen to me Erin, you’re safe, okay? I don’t know what kind of bullshit the motherfucker has told you—and it doesn’t matter right now. You’ve made a mistake, but I’m going to fix it. I’m going to catch the next flight out of here—”
“No—don’t do that!”
“I’m coming to get you—to bring you home.”
Erin closed her eyes to regroup and when she did, she heard the subtle hiss of the door opening and then closing. She opened her eyes, and found Max in the threshold, watching her. She took a cleansing breath and resolved to answer her brother with something that he’d believe—something that was doubly hard to say with her husband staring at her. “I don’t want to come home.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re saying. Listen to me, Erin. Villarreal is holding a grudge against us, of that we’re certain. He’s been making offensive moves against us.”
She stalled, trying to make it seem as if she was hearing this for the first time. “What kind of moves?”
“For one thing, he’s dogging our tracks—he’s out to keep us from acquiring the property we need. He’s buying shit out from under us right and left—driving up prices beyond what’s reasonable.”
“Maybe he’s just a good businessman,” she suggested in a subdued tone, watching from the corner of her eye as Max locked the door and then leaned against it.
“Never said he wasn’t. There’s no question that he’s filthy, filthy rich—”
Looking at the broad-shouldered man through the corner of her eye and trying to control her heart rate, she asked, “Has he done anything illegal?”
“Not that I know of, but that doesn’t make his actions moral, either. And there’s no damn way your meeting was accidental—I want you home, now.”
“I can’t come home right now, Damian. I married the man. Do you expect me to abandon this marriage without even giving it a chance?”
“Hell yes, I do,” her brother snarled.
“Well, I’m going to stay here—at least for a while,” she maintained.
“Erin—”
“No. Look, I’ve listened to you, and I hear you, I really do. Maybe you’re right—but maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it’s what I thought it was the first time I saw him, you know?”
“And what was that?” Damian asked in a disgusted tone.
Why did she have to say these things with Max looking on? “Electric, you know?” Hating that she was forced to say that in front of Max and hating him for invading her privacy, she turned and glared at him, and then stuck her middle finger in the air for good measure before she glanced away and continued to soothe her brother. “It’s how you and Angie are when you’re together. Maybe Max knew who I was—but maybe he didn’t care. Maybe he’s holding a grudge against you as you say, but maybe he decided not to let it get in the way of how he feels about me?” If only that were true. If only this thing between them was about her . . . maybe she wouldn’t be feeling the jabs of hurt that she’d been feeling since waking up on Max’s private jet and finding out the truth.