Best Of Makeovers Bundle Part 16

Letting her run out now would be a mistake. He knew that. But if she stayed, things were only going to get more awkward. Boxed in. Which wasn't fair to either of them. Maybe they needed s.p.a.ce between them to work this out.

'Okay. You have stuff to do, and I have to prepare for a site meeting.' He paused. 'But I'll call you.'

'You'll call me.' She looked as if she'd heard that one before-and she didn't believe a word of it.

'Really.' He meant it. He didn't want her to walk out of his life. 'Give me your mobile number. I'll call you.'

'All right. Got a pen?'

He kept one in his bedside cabinet, to do the crossword in the Sunday papers. Without a word, he took it from the drawer and handed it to her.

'Paper?'

'Not here. I'll have to go down to my office.'

To his surprise, she shook her head. 'This'll do.' She took his hand and scrawled her phone number on the back.

Now that was thinking on her feet. And Max liked that. He liked that a lot.

Actually, there were a lot of things he liked about Cynthia Reynolds. He just hoped she'd give him the chance to tell her. 'I'll call you,' he promised.

And he meant to. He really did. He even transferred her number to his mobile phone before he showered and scrubbed the ink from his hand. Except his muse took him over partway through his preparations for the site meeting, and he only realised he'd forgotten about both lunch and dinner when he'd finished roughing out some sketches on his draughtboard and noticed that it was dark outside.

It was nearly ten o'clock at night. Hardly a reasonable time to call her. For all he knew, she was out somewhere-after all, this was Sat.u.r.day night. A night when he'd usually be out partying. He'd just been...distracted, today. Well, he hadn't said when he'd call. He'd ring her tomorrow. At a reasonable hour.

He tried. Except he kept hearing the network message that the mobile phone he was calling was unavailable. So she must be on the tube or some other place where there wasn't a phone signal.

He thought about sending a text-but somehow it didn't seem quite right. Impersonal. A bit like an afterthought. Anyway, he wanted to talk to her.

Ah, h.e.l.l. If he'd called her yesterday, they could've spent today together. Maybe gone down to Kew, wandered through the gardens. He could have kissed her in every greenhouse-in fact, in one, he could have kissed her in several different climates. Hot and dry. Cool and humid.

Mmm, and if they'd found a quiet corner, hot and wet...

He tried again later, but this time the recorded message told him that her mobile phone was switched off.

Okay. He'd try her landline. He knew the number because Lisa shared it.

But the line was engaged and she didn't have an answering service that took a message when she was on the phone or using the Internet.

Why the h.e.l.l didn't a techie have broadband, to keep her phone line free and give her faster net access?

He growled in frustration when he tried again a few minutes later and got the engaged signal yet again. Anyone would think Cyn was trying to avoid him. She certainly wasn't making it easy for him to contact her.

Unless, maybe, she'd changed her mind and didn't want him to call her...

I'll call you.

Yeah, right. Cyn had left her mobile phone on virtually all weekend, and Max hadn't called. Okay, so some of the time she'd been travelling and there hadn't been a signal, but he could have texted her and she'd have picked up the message when she was back in an area with a signal. Or he could have emailed her. She'd told him she'd be in the office.

She'd had the best part of two days to think about it. A relationship with Max-well, it wouldn't be a relationship, would it? It would be a couple of dates, and then it would be over. He didn't do commitment. He'd been honest with her, even telling her about Gina.

But it had also been a warning. He'd told her that Gina was quiet and shy-and not what he wanted. She knew from Lisa that Max dated tall, skinny blondes who were happy to party hard for just a little while and then wave him goodbye. Tall, skinny, fancy-free blondes. The opposite of short, curvy, intense brunettes. Ha.

That left her two options. One, do what her mum did and eat her heart out over Mr Wrong. Two, get real-Max Taylor wasn't going to give up his single lifestyle and risk a proper relationship. So she'd be better off just leaving it and moving on.

Wouldn't she?

The next morning, Cyn was about to head into a meeting when her mobile phone rang.

'Hey. You're a hard woman to get hold of, Cyn Reynolds.'

Oh, Lord. Even Max's voice made her melt. Made her body remember how it had felt to be stroked, kissed, all over. Cyn closed her eyes. No. She'd made her decision. And she wasn't going to change it. No matter how seductive he sounded.

'Not that difficult,' she said coolly.

'I got caught up in work on Sat.u.r.day,' Max said. 'I didn't think you'd appreciate a call at stupid o'clock.'

True. But he could have texted her.

'Your phone wasn't available yesterday. And your landline was busy.'

He'd tried to call her? Really? 'I was working.'

'I guessed as much. Can I see you for lunch?'

Oh, yes, please. Especially if you're on the menu.

She shook herself. No. She'd made her choice. It was time to be sensible. 'Sorry. I'm working.'

'Dinner tonight, then.'

It wouldn't be just dinner, would it? She remembered what he'd said on Friday night. Come home with me. He'd say the same to her tonight. She, being stupid, wouldn't have the slightest bit of resistance. She'd go. Willingly. And they'd have another night of amazing s.e.x.

Until he got bored.

Or until he got spooked. Three dates and she'd be out. Which meant tonight would be their last time together in any case. What was the point of setting herself up for getting hurt? 'Sorry. I'm working.' Not quite as unsubtle as 'I'm washing my hair', but he'd get the message. 'And I'm due in a meeting right now. Bye.' She pressed the b.u.t.ton to end the call, then switched off her phone.

Max swore as he heard the long beeping tone, and cleared the line. She'd hung up on him! He pressed 'redial'-and discovered that, not only had she hung up on him, she'd switched off her phone.

Oh, wonderful. Not. Clearly she'd thought about it over the weekend, panicked, and decided not to give them a chance.

Ah, h.e.l.l. He didn't know where they were going, either. He couldn't give her any promises because he had no idea what was happening between them. Normally, he managed to walk away without a problem. But Cyn was different. He wasn't going to leave it at this. He couldn't. There was something about her-something that made him want to get to know her better. Made him want to spend time with her. Made him want to break his personal rule of not letting a woman get too close to him. Cyn mattered.

So. Should he send her flowers? No, too obvious. If he was going to sweet-talk Cyn into giving them a chance...

Sweet-talk. Of course.

He grinned, and flicked into his Internet browser. Fifteen minutes later he'd chosen a selection of very exclusive chocolates, added a very personal message and booked them to be couriered to her that afternoon.

Cyn came out of her third meeting of the afternoon to find a gold-coloured box on her desk.

She frowned. 'What are these?' she asked Rob.

Her colleague looked up from his desk and shrugged. 'Delivered for you when you were in that meeting.'

Odd. She wasn't expecting anything. It wasn't her birthday. She opened the box, and her eyes widened when she saw the chocolates. Wow. Really top-quality stuff, from the best chocolatier in London.

Maybe it was from the Wharf Gallery, to say thank you. Sweet. She'd share it with the guys-after all, they'd put in the hours as well. She smiled, opened the envelope and read the card.

Colour scorched into her cheeks. Max had sent her chocolates. Just as she'd sent them to him. And he'd talked about wanting to eat chocolate off her skin.

The man was trying to seduce her with chocolate.

The worst thing was, she could just imagine it. And her libido was already starting to sit up and beg.

'Everything all right, Cyn?' Rob asked.

'Uh, yes.' No.

She flicked into her email program and typed a quick note. Three seconds later, she'd pulled Max's email address from her files and sent the message.

She was working on debugging a program when her computer beeped.

Mail.

Knowing she should just ignore it-but unable to stop herself-she checked her inbox. One new message, from Max Taylor.

No offence meant. Have dinner with me. Tonight. My place. I'll cook for you. M.

Dinner at his place? Yeah, right. She'd never even make it to his kitchen! They'd end up in his bed. And she'd end up hurt. She pressed 'reply' and typed.

Thanks, but no. C.

Beep.

In case you're worried about food poisoning, I love cooking-and I'm *good* at things I love doing. M.

Like s.e.x.

She already knew that.

And she knew he knew she'd think of that.

Ah, h.e.l.l. She ate a chocolate. And that reminded her of s.e.x, too, because of that little picture he'd put in her mind. s.e.x and chocolate. Was she ever going to be able to eat chocolate again without thinking of him? Without thinking of making love? d.a.m.n. She pressed 'reply' and typed.

The answer's still no.

Two seconds later, her office phone rang. She picked it up almost on automatic pilot. 'Good afternoon, Cyn Reynolds speaking.'

'I'll do you coffee ice cream and strawberries for dessert.'

He didn't even need to give his name. She knew his voice. And she knew what he was trying to do. Put more pictures in her mind. Tempting pictures. Of Max feeding her spoonfuls of ice cream between kisses. Of him offering her a plump, juicy strawberry to take a bite. Of being stretched out on his lovely big bed, while he...

She took a deep breath. 'Max, I'm about to go into a meeting.'

'Another one?' He sounded disbelieving. Well, she never had been good at lying.

'I'm busy.'

He didn't dispute that. But his voice became softer, coaxing. 'Talk to me, Cyn. Give me a chance.'

So tempting. But she couldn't do it. 'No.'

'Why?'

'Because you'll hurt me, Max. And I don't want to get hurt.' Before he could say anything else, she said, 'Goodbye.' And hung up.

That was twice she'd hung up on him. Twice more than any other woman had before. With any other woman, he'd have shrugged and walked away. No hard feelings. But, with Cyn, he couldn't.

Which was precisely why he ought to stay away from her. She'd change everything. And he liked his life as it was-working hard and playing harder.

But he remembered waking up with her in his arms. Once most definitely wasn't enough.

Okay, so the chocolates hadn't worked. But he was going to wear her resistance down. And how.

He flicked back into the Internet. Scrolled through flowers that just wouldn't work. Cyn wasn't a red roses girl-besides, red roses were way too obvious. He wanted something cool and beautiful. Was there a flower called Cinderella?

Yes. Snapdragons with pink and pale sh.e.l.l-pink flowers-which flowered from June, so they were well out of season. Or delphiniums with pale violet-coloured flowers-again, out of season. Ditto the clematis with blue flowers. Ha. Served him right for trying to be too clever.

In the end he chose an arrangement of spectacular scented lilies and white roses. Something cool and beautiful, like Cyn herself. He ordered special delivery for first thing tomorrow morning, and added a message he hoped would intrigue Cyn enough to make her call him.

And waited for the reaction.

It was the middle of Tuesday afternoon when she finally emailed him. And that was when Max realised that he really had been waiting to hear from her. He hadn't been giving his full attention to the project he was working on, so he'd need to double-check every single calculation.

Something else he'd never had to do before.

He clicked on the message.

Thank you for the flowers. They're lovely. But do you have any idea how much teasing I've had to take from my team over this?

It hadn't even occurred to him that she'd be teased. But, now he thought of it, she worked with a bunch of male techies. Of course they would have ribbed her when flowers arrived. It was a guy thing. Ask her who her secret admirer was and watch her blush.

Quickly, he typed back.

Sorry. That wasn't meant to happen. I just hoped you'd like them. Have dinner with me tonight?

The reply was too fast and too brief.