A Will, A Wish...A Proposal (Contemporary Romance) Read online

  ‘Should I drop the lady off first?’

  They were back.

  London, the suite, playing at tourists—it was all over. He should see Ellie home and that would be an end to it, should be an end to it. Only she was so tired. And so alone.

  ‘No.’ Max made a sudden decision. Ellie would be tired, emotionally wrung out when she came to. She might need him. And after all he had bedrooms to spare. ‘Both of us to The Round House, please.’

  It was less than five minutes before the car pulled in through the gates and came to a smooth stop on the circular driveway. The outside light came on as they passed it, and the orange glow cast an otherworldly light over the still slumbering Ellie.

  Max eyed her. She was thin, sure, and couldn’t weigh too much. How easy would it be to get her out of the car and upstairs without waking her?

  Not that easy.

  But she looked so peaceful he didn’t want to disturb her.

  He opened the car door as quietly as he could, hoping to give her just a few seconds more, but she stirred as the door clicked open.

  ‘Where are we?’ Her voice was groggy.

  Max glanced over. Her hair was mussed, her eyes still half shut.

  ‘At The Round House. It’s so late I thought we could both stay here tonight. I can make up a bed for you, if you prefer.’

  ‘No need. I don’t mind sharing.’ She yawned: an impossibly long sound. ‘I should walk home. It’s not far, but I don’t think I’d make it. I’d probably fall asleep by the side of the road and have to trust that the local rabbits and sparrows would cover me with leaves.’

  ‘Very picturesque, but if you could make do with sheets and a mattress it might be easier.’

  ‘Okay, if you insist.’ She yawned again and allowed him to help her out of the car, leaning against him as she staggered upright.

  ‘Come on, Sleeping Beauty, let’s go in.’

  Max had only stayed a few nights in The Round House, occupied it for less than a week, and yet somehow it felt like coming home.

  Walking in, dropping his wallet and keys in the glass bowl on the hallway table, kicking his shoes off by the hat stand: they all felt like actions honed by years of automatic practice. And the house welcomed him back. A sigh seemed to ripple through it, one of contentment. All was right in its world.

  He didn’t have this sense of rightness in his own apartment. All glass and chrome and space, city views, personal gym, residents’ pool on site, it was the perfect bachelor pad. But when he was there he didn’t fall asleep listening to the waves crashing on the beach below. His apartment was luxurious, convenient, easy—but it didn’t have family history steeped into every cornice. Sure, he could move some of the old family possessions, the pictures, the barometer, over to Hartford. But they wouldn’t belong there.

  They belonged here.

  ‘Do you need anything?’

  The question was automatic but he wasn’t sure he could help if she did. The kitchen had been bare when he’d arrived, and he’d stocked it with little more than coffee, milk and some nachos.

  Luckily Ellie shook her head. ‘Just bed.’

  ‘I’m in the guest suite.’ He started to lead the way up the wide staircase. ‘It didn’t feel right, moving into my great-aunt’s rooms.’

  ‘That’s understandable. Besides, I can’t see you as a rose wallpaper kind of guy.’

  ‘It is very floral,’ he agreed. ‘But I’m secure enough in my masculinity to cope with pink roses.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘There’s a claim.’

  Max slid his arm around her waist, his steps matching hers as they trod wearily up the stairs. Yet some of that weariness fell away as he touched her.

  ‘I don’t make claims. I make statements.’

  Ellie had reached the landing half a step ahead. She turned to him, stepping into his embrace, her own arms encircling his waist, warm hands burrowing underneath his T-shirt. His skin tingled where she touched: a million tiny explosions as his nerve-endings reacted to the skin-on-skin contact.

  ‘I may need you to verify that statement.’

  She looked up at him, her face serious except for that dimple tugging at the corner of her mouth. He bent his head, needing to taste the little dip in her skin. He felt her shiver against him as his tongue dipped out and sampled her.

  ‘I’m at your service.’ He kissed the dimple again, inhaling her sweet, drowsy scent as he did so. ‘How exactly would you like me to verify it?’ He kissed his way down her jawline, pausing at her neck. ‘Any requests?’

  Her hands clenched at his waist. ‘Anything.’

  ‘Anything?’ He slid his hands up under her top, over her ribs to the soft fullness above.

  Ellie gasped. ‘Anything. Just don’t stop.’

  ‘Oh, I won’t, honey. Not until you ask me to.’

  He walked her backwards towards the bedroom door, his hands continuing to move upwards millimetre by millimetre.

  ‘It’s only three in the morning. We’ve got the rest of the night.’

  He couldn’t, wouldn’t think beyond that. Not now. Not when his hands were caressing her, his lips tasting her. When the scent of her was all around him.

  There were decisions to be made, places to go and a world to conquer. But it could wait until the morning.

  The sun would be up in just a couple of hours, but they still had tonight and Max was going to make the most of every single second.

  * * *

  The sun was shining in through the half-opened curtains, casting a warm golden glow onto the bed. Ellie sighed and pulled at the sheet as she turned into the gentle heat, gloriously aware that at that very second everything was all right with the world.

  Except... Except was she waking up alone again? Like some Greek nymph fated never to see her lover in the light of day?

  Ellie pulled herself upright and tried to work out the time. There was no clock in the room, and her phone was dead, but judging by the brightness of the sun it had to be late morning if not afternoon.

  She should really get up. Check on her shop. Head back to reality. Only she was so comfortable. Reality could wait just a little longer.

  ‘Morning, sleepyhead. Or should that be afternoon?’

  Max was lounging against the door, holding something that Ellie devoutly hoped was a cup of coffee.

  ‘I thought you were going to sleep the day away.’

  ‘How long have you been up?’ She held her hand out for the coffee and inhaled greedily, wrapping her hands around the hot mug. ‘I missed you.’ She allowed her hand to fall invitingly to the empty space by her side, the sheet to slip a little lower.

  ‘No rest for the wicked. Duty called.’

  He wasn’t meeting her eye, and he didn’t sit by her or even slide his gaze appreciatively over her body.

  The message was clear. Playtime was over. Well, she had known the deal from the start. Any disappointment was simply her due payment for the unexpected fun. Back to reality with the proverbial bump.

  No wonder it stung a little.

  ‘My solicitor wants to look at the share papers in detail. He doesn’t trust the scan I sent him, so it looks like I might be heading back earlier than I expected. Don’t worry about the festival, though. I’ve asked our marketing guys to give you a hand, and my PA can do whatever you need her to do. I’ve emailed you all the details.’

  Max sounded offhand: more like the business partner she had been expecting him to be than the understanding companion of the last few days.

  ‘Very efficient,’ Ellie said drily. ‘You have been busy. In that case I’d better get off. I don’t want to hold you up. When are you flying out?’

  That was good. Her voice was level, with no outward sign that she felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomac
h.

  Of course she’d known this wasn’t for ever...hadn’t been expecting more than a few more days. Only she had been looking forward to those few more days. Looking forward to discovering more about him, discovering more about herself, about who she could be with a little support and an absence of fear.

  Well, she would have to carry on that discovery alone.

  ‘Tomorrow. I’ve a car booked for ten tomorrow morning.’

  His eyes caught hers then, and there was a hint of an apology in the caramel depths, along with something else. A barrier. He was moving on, moving away. Oh, so politely, but oh, so steadily.

  Ellie knew that she should try and get up, but she was suddenly and overwhelmingly self-conscious. Her clothes were heaped on a chair at the other side of the room and she couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t get up and walk across there stark naked. Maybe she could have if the other Max had been here. The Max who couldn’t keep his eyes off her. The Max who made her feel infinitely precious and yet incredibly strong, like a rare stone ready to be polished into something unique.

  But this Max was a stranger, and she didn’t want him to see her in all her vulnerability.

  ‘Thanks for the coffee but, really, don’t let me keep you. We both have heaps to do. Maybe I’ll see you before you leave. Come down to the shop if you have a chance. I’ll find you a book for the plane.’

  She could be polite and businesslike too.

  ‘Thanks, that would be good.’ Max stepped back towards the door. ‘Not that I’ll have a chance to read for pleasure. I’ll be...’

  ‘Busy,’ she finished for him. ‘Back to all work and no play, Max?’

  He flushed, a hint of red high on the tanned cheekbones. ‘Yes.’

  Shame shot through her at his quiet acceptance. ‘I’m sorry. I know you have to go. I know how difficult things are.’ She smiled. ‘I guess I’ve got used to you being around.’

  The colour had left his cheeks and he smiled back, the familiar warmth creeping back into his eyes. ‘I’ve got used to being around. I’ll miss it here.’

  And me? she wanted to ask. Will you miss me? But her mouth wouldn’t form the words; she wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted the answer to be.

  He was watching her now with his old intentness, the expression that made her simultaneously want to pull the sheet right up to her chin and let it fall all the way down.

  ‘I guess I could take a few hours off today. I never did get round to taking a boat out. Do you have to get back to the shop, Ellie?’

  Yes. No. Things were confusing enough already. Maybe she would be better off saying her goodbyes now and putting some much needed distance between them. But what could a few more hours hurt? The end line was firmly drawn in the sand. The countdown to the final hour had begun.

  ‘They’re not expecting me back till this evening. Mrs T has the shop well in hand, I’m sure.’

  ‘Good.’ He pushed away from the doorway and advanced on her, intent clear and hot in his eyes. ‘In a couple of hours we should get a picnic, and then I’ll show you that the sea is for more than watching. Ready to try something new, Ellie?’

  He was talking about sailing, wasn’t he? Shivers ran hot down her body.

  ‘In a couple of hours?’

  The sheet fell a little more and this time he noticed, his eyes scorching gold as they traced their way down her body.

  ‘A couple of hours,’ he agreed. ‘I haven’t said good morning to you properly yet, or good afternoon. In fact I may need to work my way right through to good evening...’

  ‘Well,’ she said, as primly as it was possible to be when lying barely covered by a sheet, her body trembling with anticipation, ‘we wouldn’t want to forget our manners, now, would we?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’ He was by her side, his eyes fixed on hers as he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. ‘Manners are very important. Want me to show you?’

  She nodded, her gaze skimming the defined hardness of his chest, moving lower down to where he was just beginning to unfasten his jeans.

  ‘Yes. Yes, please, Max. Show me everything.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘ARE YOU SURE you’ve got everything?’

  Ellie hadn’t intended to come and see Max off. She hadn’t intended to stay with him all last night, or to wake up in his arms this morning. She had intended a civilised kiss on the cheek before turning away, as if she didn’t much care whether he stayed or went.

  And yet here she was. She hated goodbyes as a matter of course, but this one was proving particularly unbearable. The problem with never dating, never having had a casual relationship in her life, was that she had no idea how to act now their time was coming to an end.

  Should she hug him? Kiss his cheek? Kiss him properly? Shake his hand? High-five him? All of the above? Grab him and never let him go?

  That wasn’t in their unwritten agreement.

  Max picked up his small holdall, hefting the weight experimentally. ‘I think so. I didn’t actually buy much while I was here, and I packed light anyway.’

  ‘You nearly bought a boat.’

  ‘But I wasn’t planning to check that in as hand luggage. Even first class might have had something to say about that.’

  ‘They probably wouldn’t have been best pleased.’ Ellie rummaged in her bag and pulled out a gold-embossed paper bag. ‘Have you got room for this? I owe you a souvenir, remember?’

  He eyed the bag nervously. ‘It’s not a trick snake, is it?’

  ‘No.’ She bit her lip, keeping back her smile with some difficulty. ‘Open it when you get home.’

  ‘That bad, huh?’

  ‘You have no idea.’

  She handed him another bag: one of the striped paper bags she used at the shop.

  ‘Here. I know you’re planning to work solidly for the next twenty-four hours, but just in case your eyes tire of spreadsheets...’

  He opened the bag and slid the hardback book out. ‘Tales of Cornwall? It’s lovely. Thanks, Ellie.’

  ‘I figured you should know a little about your ancestral folk.’

  He was flicking through it, pausing at some of the full-colour illustrations. ‘It’s a very thoughtful gift.’ He looked at her, his brow crinkled. ‘I don’t have anything for you. I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’s okay. I wasn’t expecting anything.’ She swallowed, her throat unexpectedly full. ‘Just promise me you won’t sell the house to anyone who doesn’t love it.’

  ‘I’d keep it if I could, but you said it yourself, Ellie. The village doesn’t need any more absentee owners, jetting in for two weeks in the summer. I’ll make sure I only sell it to a family who want to live here all year round.’

  ‘A book-loving family?’

  ‘Of course. What about you, Ellie? Are you going to be okay?’

  His face was serious and the concern in his voice made her hands clench a little. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it; it was nice that someone cared even a little. But she didn’t want that kind of concern from Max.

  Her preference would be for the scorching looks that turned her knees to melting chocolate—made her whole body liquefy. But she’d even take his scornful mistrust. That at least had treated her as an equal, not like something fragile.

  ‘Yes. I have your PA’s email, and I promise to call DL’s London office if I need advice or help.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant. Are you sure this is what you want?’

  Ellie’s heart thumped painfully. What did he mean? Was he offering to stay? For her to go with him? For some kind of tomorrow beyond these two weeks? Her palms felt clammy as her pulse began to race. What would she say? What did she want?

  ‘Am I sure about what?’

  ‘This...’ He swept his arm dismissively in an arc, pushing aw
ay Trengarth, the sea, the view. ‘It’s pretty, Ellie. But is it enough? One shop? One festival? You were amazing at the weekend: passionate, knowledgeable, brilliant. You told me you dreamt once of a life in London, in publishing. Are you really content to settle for this?’

  It was the hint of contempt in his voice as he said ‘this’ that really hit her. Was that what he thought? Of her? Of Trengarth? Of everything she valued? That they weren’t big enough? Not important enough?

  ‘It’s okay, Max. You can head back to your important job in the big city without worrying about me. I am happy and I am fine.’

  The last three words came out slightly more vehemently than she’d meant them to and Max took a step back, his eyes widened in surprise.

  ‘Whoa, what does that mean?’

  ‘It means you don’t have to add me to the list of things that Max Loveday has to sort out. I like my life, Max. I like my shop. I love my village. We don’t all need to be at the very top. We don’t all need to save the world.’

  Confusion warred with anger in his eyes. ‘I’m not trying to save the world.’

  ‘No?’

  She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. She wanted him to look as if he might miss her, darn it. To look as if not holding her, kissing her, touching her might actually cause him some discomfort. As if he wanted to pull her into bed—not tell her everything that was wrong with her life, according to the gospel of Max Loveday.

  ‘No.’

  Good intentions be damned. She was going to have to say something.

  ‘When you came here you accused me of being some kind of con artist. Now you tell me I’m wasting my life. Things aren’t that black and white, Max. Life is richer and more complicated than your narrow definition of success. Look at your dad and his girlfriend. Have you considered that maybe, just maybe, they really are in love?’

  His mouth tightened. ‘I don’t doubt that they believe that.’

  ‘How will you know if you don’t give them a chance? You carry responsibility for your parents, for the whole of DL, for your grandfather’s dreams. What about you, Max? What do you want?’