Carole Mortimer - New Year Kisses

But who was he kidding? He had known Jude most of his life, might be a trusted friend as well as employee, but he also knew the other man well enough to know that what Jude wanted, he got, usually by fair means, but if those means ultimately failed…! Jude had left him in absolutely no doubt earlier that he wanted the Calendar farm, and that he intended getting it.

Max’s own inner feelings of a conflict of interest simply wouldn’t come into the other man’s equation!

Max thrust his hands into the pockets of his denims, his fists tightly clenched. ‘My advice to you all is to seriously consider this second offer,’ he told January harshly.

Her eyes widened indignantly as she snapped, ‘I wasn’t aware I had asked for your advice!’

He shrugged with seeming unconcern, hating himself for talking to her in this way, but at the same time knowing that he couldn’t back down now from the stance he had taken. Couldn’t? More like daredn’t, he acknowledged self-disgustedly. Conflict of interest, be damned; he had made his choice in Jude’s favour the moment he’d realized just how deeply involved he already was with January. Having her hate him for that choice was the price he had to pay.

‘I’m offering it anyway,’ he drawled dismissively. ‘Jude isn’t a man to take no for an answer.’

Her eyes flashed deeply grey. ‘Then the two of you must have a lot in common.’

She meant to be insulting, and she succeeded. Although there was no denying, Max accepted hardly, that she unwittingly told the truth. The two men were similar in lots of ways, both successful at what they did, both still bachelors at thirty-seven, and both intending to stay that way.

If not for the same reasons.

Jude made no secret of the fact that although women fascinated him, they as quickly bored him in a one-to-one relationship, claimed that if he ever met the woman who didn’t bore him after a few days’ acquaintance he would marry her. Whereas Max had no intention of marrying ever, for any reason, least of all love.

He had looked at January on New Year’s Eve, and known he wanted her. But it was nothing more than that, he told himself determinedly. He wouldn’t allow it to be.

Women, he had learnt at a very young age, were fickle creatures at best, took a man’s love and used it as a weapon against him.

His expression was bleak now. ‘Resorting to insults isn’t going to help resolve this situation,’ he rasped.

‘Maybe not,’ she accepted heavily. ‘But it certainly makes me feel better!’

He gave a rueful shrug. ‘Then feel free.’

She gave him a searching look. ‘Max, can I ask you a question?’

He stiffened warily, not liking the look in her eyes now. ‘Go ahead,’ he invited tensely.

‘How do you sleep at night?’ she scorned.

The last two nights—very badly. Usually—very well. But he knew that wasn’t what she was really asking!

His mouth twisted derisively. ‘January, whatever you may or may not think of me personally, Jude’s offer is a fair one—’

‘I’m not interested in anything to do with Jude Marshall!’ she burst out scathingly. ‘Until recently, I had never even heard of the man—and I wish I still hadn’t!’ she added disgustedly. ‘I’m more interested in knowing how you can bear to be used as his—as his—’

‘Careful, January,’ Max warned softly. ‘In view of your obvious anger, there are some insults I’m willing to accept—others I am not,’ he added hardly. ‘I’m a lawyer. I have never been guilty of committing any sort of unlawful act.’

‘Not unlawful, maybe,’ she allowed heatedly. ‘But there is such a thing as a moral wrong.’

‘Granted,’ he acknowledged icily. ‘But as far as the Calendar family is concerned, I can’t see where I have been guilty of that either!’

‘You—you can’t see—!’ January stared at him incredulously. ‘You don’t consider deliberately setting out to seduce one of us, in order to divide and conquer, to be morally wrong?’

His eyes narrowed coldly. ‘You’re referring to yourself?’

‘Of course I’m referring to myself!’ she confirmed impatiently, becoming suddenly still as she looked at him suspiciously. ‘Unless—’

‘Don’t even suggest it, January,’ he warned softly. ‘So far I believe I have remained calm and reasonable during your diatribe of accusations—but if you proceed with the present one I may not be answerable for the consequences!’

‘You may not be—’

‘January, I don’t believe this conversation is doing anything to calm this situation down,’ he cut in impatiently, not sure how much longer he could stand here and take her insults without pulling her into his arms and kissing her into silence!

Which, in the circumstances, wouldn’t calm the situation down either!

His mouth twisted. ‘Our previous—friendship, may have given you the impression that you had the freedom to come here and throw wild accusations at me.’ He scowled darkly. ‘But I happen to think otherwise—’

‘Friendship?’ she echoed furiously. ‘Friendship!’ she repeated disgustedly, shaking her head. ‘We were never friends, Max, and you know it—’ She was suddenly silenced as Max’s mouth came down forcefully on hers.

He hadn’t been able to stop himself. Could no longer stand here and have January look at him with such dislike and loathing. Not that he thought kissing her was going to make her dislike him any less—he really just couldn’t help himself!

He might never know a moment’s peace again, might never again have complete possession of his soul, either, he realized dazedly. But for the moment, kissing January, holding her close against him, touching the silkiness of her skin, was all that mattered.

SHE should stop this.

Now.

Yet January couldn’t bring herself to do that, inwardly knew that this might never happen again, that she might never again know the taste and feel of Max’s lips on hers, the caress of his hands against the warmth of her burning skin.

And she wanted those things.

Wanted them so badly.

Wanted Max.

His hair was like silk against her hands as her fingers became entwined in its darkness, deepening their kiss, heat and moisture, a duel of tongues that spoke of their desire for each other.

January made no demur as her coat fell to the carpeted floor, at the warmth of Max’s hands beneath the thickness of her zipped top, flesh catching fire at the caress of his hands against the dampness of her skin.

She was aware once again of that oneness, of not knowing where she ended and Max began, every particle of her seeming joined to him, two halves of a perfect whole.

She groaned low in her throat as he broke the kiss, that groan turning to a throaty ache as his lips moved slowly across her cheek, down the sensitive column of her neck, to the pulsing hollow at its base, lips and tongue probing moistly there, pulses of pleasure shooting down the length of her spine to ignite a hitherto unknown warmth between trembling thighs.

The zip of her top moved slowly down beneath Max’s searching fingers, he bending his head as his lips followed the same path, January’s back arching instinctively as she felt the moisture of his mouth through the silky material of her bra, his tongue moving in a slow caress over the pouting invitation of her nipple.

His hands encircled the slenderness of her bared waist now, holding her against the hardness of his thighs as his lips paid homage to the warm swell of her breasts. And lower.

January moved against him invitingly, her fingers once again entangled in the darkness of his hair, holding him against her, never wanting this pleasure to stop.