‘Meaning?’
‘I was trying to protect you, you silly mare. That’s why I didn’t want you there in the first place. I said you shouldn’t come along. But you insisted.’
‘Christ, the word “chauvinist” was invented for you,’ said Annie.
‘Some things are too tough for a woman to get involved in.’
‘Bollocks.’
‘Would you have used the gun?’
‘Like that? No.’
‘I rest my case.’
‘So you didn’t find him. You didn’t get this Rufus.’
Max shook his head.
‘I’m going to bed,’ said Annie, getting to her feet. ‘And tomorrow I’m going to call on Dickon’s landlady. What was her name? Moira?’
Max nodded.
‘See yourself out,’ she said, heading for the door.
Max caught up with her when her hand was on the handle. He was suddenly standing very close behind her. Too close. She could feel the heat coming off his body, enfolding hers. She felt one hard-muscled arm snake around her middle, pulling her hard against him. His other hand was resting on her thigh.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she asked coldly.
‘Feeling you up,’ said Max, brushing her hair aside and putting his lips against her throat. His breath there made her shiver.
‘Well don’t,’ she snapped.
‘Sure?’ His mouth was getting busy, and Annie was having trouble concentrating on non-arousal.
‘Perfectly sure, thank you,’ she said.
Max let her go. Annie thought she did very well, she didn’t even stagger though her legs felt like jelly.
‘Maybe I should stop here,’ said Max. ‘Act as chaperone to you and Golden Boy.’
Jesus was he never going to let that go?
But she realized he was only saying it to provoke a reaction. If she were to fly into a rage and turn on him, she knew precisely how the night would end – with them having wild sex, which would resolve nothing, mean nothing. Tomorrow, she would hate herself for having weakened. And tomorrow, the same old problem would still be there. His jealousy. His need to control her. His general craziness where she was concerned.
Annie reined in her temper. ‘Suit yourself. I don’t give a toss either way. There are at least a dozen bedrooms going begging, take your pick,’ she said, very casual. She wasn’t going to admit, not even to herself, that the idea of him sleeping under the same roof was disturbing. It was. It really was. But she’d die rather than admit it to him.
Max was staring at her face, trying to fathom her mood. ‘OK, I will,’ he said. ‘How about the one adjoining yours. That free?’
Annie stared at him. ‘That’s Layla’s room,’ she said.
‘But Layla’s not here. And as you say: plenty of rooms going begging. She can take one of the others if she comes back. In present circumstances, it’s better if I stay close. Don’t you reckon?’