Janet Evanovich - Full Tilt

Max just smiled.

The sun was low in the sky by the time Max began cooking the fish he'd expertly cleaned while Jamie shared a soft drink with him. They only had a couple of bottled waters and had agreed to ration them.

When the fish were done, Max laid them on the lid of the ice chest. They'd watched the ice chest itself float down the river.

He and Jamie waited until the fish had cooled before tasting it.

"It could use a little seasoning," Jamie said.

"Next time have Emeril do your cooking."

"I wasn't complaining," she said. "Actually, it's very good."

"Thank you," Max said. "Coming from you, I consider that a high compliment."

Jamie looked at him. "What do you mean, coming from me?"

"You're not always easy to get along with. Some women would be happy to be in your shoes right now." He grinned.

Jamie knew he was goading her. Max Holt enjoyed getting her riled. "I'm sure that's the case," she said matter-of-factly. "No doubt they would have cleaned the fish and chewed it for you, but I'm not that desperate for a man's attention."

They stared at each other over the campfire. Night had settled in, cooling the temperature. The air felt good on Jamie's skin. As she looked at Max, taking in the dark hair and eyes in the soft firelight, she could easily understand why women flocked to him.

"You look mighty fine sitting by a campfire, Miss Swift, with your hair shining like gold in the firelight. I'll bet it feels like silk."

Jamie dropped her gaze, but she could feel Max's eyes on her. She felt self-conscious, knowing he missed nothing. "You're staring," she said, still refusing to look up.

His voice was soft. "How do you know?"

"I feel your eyes on me."

"I'm looking at your neck, and I'm thinking—"

"Stop it, Max." She turned and looked toward the water, which was too black to see.

"Know what else I'm thinking? You have a nice profile. Strong stubborn chin, dainty little upturned nose, high cheekbones. A perfect face, Jamie."

Jamie felt her throat tighten. For some reason she felt very sad. She felt bereft, as though something very important was missing in her life, and she'd only just realized it.

She had planned her future down to the last detail, and Max Holt had stepped into her life and made her question it for the first time. Max Holt, who thrived on taking chances and lived life on the very edge; Max, who would think nothing of picking up and leaving for a new adventure at the drop of a hat. Like her mother.

Jamie blinked back a tear and stared up at the night sky where stars winked back at her, bringing back memories of her youth. "This reminds me of when I was a Girl Scout," she said, trying to hide the emotion in her voice.

"You were a Girl Scout?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"Not really. I can see you going door to door threatening people to buy cookies."

She smiled while her eyes sought out the different constellations her father had taught her long ago. "Hey, I was a sweet little Girl Scout. Naive, too. I was probably the last Girl Scout to find out how babies are made." She paused. "I'm still pretty naive, I guess. Either that or I'm just plain dumb."

"What do you mean?"

Finally, she looked at him. And wished she hadn't. Max Holt was even more handsome with the fire casting shadows across his face and turning his hair an inky black. She could almost sense his desire, and it would be so easy to give in to it. But then what? She shoved the thought aside. "This whole business about missing tax dollars has me thinking," she said.

"Yeah?"

"I thought it was all a bunch of malarkey, even though people speculated about it now and then. I realize I didn't want to believe it because I was afraid people I grew up with and cared about were involved."

"We always want to think the best of people."

Jamie was quiet for a moment. Finally, she looked at him. "What was your family like?" she asked, realizing she was suddenly curious about him. She smiled. "I would imagine there was never a dull moment with Deedee around."

"Deedee and I weren't close because of our age difference. I was an accident, so to speak. A mistake, as far as my parents were concerned."

"Oh."

"Don't worry, I don't feel like a mistake. My enormous ego, as you refer to it, has convinced me I have too much to give to this world. But there was a time when I believed they were right.

"I was very fortunate. My cousin and his wife took me in when I was sixteen so I was raised in a loving home and given every opportunity to succeed. I had a lot more than most kids. There are times I miss the normalcy of that life."

"I would imagine it's hard for you to live a normal life under the circumstances. I mean you're so well-known."

"I try to maintain a low profile. That's why I keep my place in Virginia. It's fairly private."

"Max?"

"Yeah?"

"What's it like being so damn rich?"

He laughed. "I don't know, Jamie. I've never been poor so I have nothing to compare it to."

"Then you'll never be able to say you've lived a full life," she said laughingly. "You'll never know the humiliation of bouncing a check or having your credit card denied in front of your friends. What kind of life is that?"

"I'm lucky that somebody else pays my bills," he said, "but what you have to realize is, I don't think about money."

"Because you have so much of it?"

"No. Because rich people can get as obsessive about money as those who don't have a lot of it. If I sat around and worried about where every dime of my money went or whether I was investing it wisely, I wouldn't have time to enjoy my life. I just don't think about it."

Jamie couldn't imagine living without money problems because she'd always raked and scraped to keep her head above water, even when her father was alive.

"I try to do the best I can," Max went on. "I try to concentrate on doing the next right thing. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't."

Jamie enjoyed hearing him talk. His voice was nice. It lulled her into a sense of well-being. A splash sounded near shore. Jamie shone her light in that direction.

"It's just a fish," Max said. "If you're feeling anxious you could always sit closer."

"I'm not afraid of a silly old fish."

"What are you afraid of?"

She looked at him, brow wrinkled.

"Let me guess," he said. "You are afraid of not knowing what tomorrow will bring. Am I right?"

It was uncanny the way he was able to read her. "I suppose you never worry."

"I'd be a liar if I told you I wasn't concerned about what's been going on, but I usually let tomorrow take care of itself."

Jamie yawned. "I'm beat. This has been a long day."

"Why don't you rest?"

She hesitated. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not sleepy. I'll let you know if the boogeyman shows up."

A few minutes later, Jamie settled herself on top of the blanket Max had laid on the ground, and she covered herself with the other one. Surprisingly enough, she was able to relax. She peered out at Max who continued to sit quietly by the fire. Even though he'd claimed he wasn't tired, she could see the fatigue around his eyes and mouth, and she realized he was staying awake and keeping watch. Once again, she felt a lump in her throat.

Was she making a mistake by marrying Phillip? Could it be that love offered more than security, companionship, and a warm body beside her at night? She had thought herself in love before, but it wasn't until Phillip came along that she began to take it seriously.

Phillip picked fresh flowers and brought them to her door because he'd read somewhere it was supposed to be more romantic than store bought. Phillip always saw that Jamie sat at her favorite table in the restaurant they frequented, sang in her ear when they danced close, and had offered to bail her out financially when he'd discovered how hard she was struggling to make ends meet.