How to Catch a Prince Page 10

  “That was fast,” he said.

  “That was an easy choice. What’s your favorite?”

  “It’s a toss-up between ribs and steak.”

  “No sweets for you,” she teased.

  “Maybe I can persuade you to share,” he said, leaning toward her, making her catch her breath.

  “I don’t know about that. I love chocolate mousse cake,” she said and took a sip of her beer. “Favorite movie?”

  “Crank.”

  “I’ve never seen it, but I suspect mayhem and murder.”

  “What about you?”

  She hesitated, because she knew he would tease her relentlessly. “The Sound Of Music,” she said. “Unless you can sing the score, you can’t rag on me.”

  He opened his mouth then shut it. “I would have never predicted it.”

  “Have you ever seen it?”

  “Maybe when I was sick with pneumonia in second grade,” he said. “I was delirious, so I can’t remember.”

  “Bet you loved it and you just don’t want to admit it. Doe, a deer, a female deer,” she jokingly sang.

  “Ray, a drop of golden sun, and that’s enough,” he said, taking another sip of beer.

  “So you weren’t totally delirious.”

  “If I remember that song, then I must have been delirious when I heard it,” he said. “You had a fear of the ocean, which we’ve now solved. Any other fears?”

  Only about a hundred, she thought, but couldn’t imagine sharing her deepest fear. “Bees,” she said. “In particular, wasps.”

  “Spiders?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not really. I just smash them.”

  “A murderer underneath that sweet exterior,” he said with a mocking grin.

  “When I’m killing a spider, I prefer to think of myself as a mercenary soldier.”

  He chuckled. “We’ve worked together for years. Why don’t I know any of this?”

  “We haven’t talked about personal stuff that much until lately. And we’ve never done anything fun together,” she said then winced. “Well, except for work. Work can be fun,” she said, quickly correcting herself.

  “You’re making me sound like a guy who doesn’t like to have fun.”

  “Your work is your fun.”

  He grimaced then skimmed his finger over her arm, sending a shiver of awareness through her. “Goose bumps,” he said. “Are you cold?”

  “A little chilly,” she confessed. “The sun went behind a cloud and since someone insisted that I get drenched...”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll take you to dinner as penance.” He pulled on his shirt.

  “Not necessary,” she said, reluctantly pulling on her cover-up, wishing the time at the beach hadn’t ended so quickly. “I wouldn’t want you to feel obligated.”

  “Not obligated. I want to do it. C’mon,” he said and grabbed her hand.

  Sophie couldn’t remember when Max had touched her so frequently, but maybe she had steeled herself against her attraction to him so that she didn’t focus on it. She was aware of his closeness in his car as he drove them back into town. Sophie couldn’t imagine ever being able to ignore those football shoulders. His physical strength wasn’t her primary attraction to Max, but it sure didn’t hurt. His strong personality and generosity had bowled her over since the first day she’d met him. She’d hoped she would become immune to that combination, but it had never happened.

  Max let her off outside her apartment. “When can I pick you up?”

  “An hour,” she said. “I want a hot shower after the cold ocean.”

  “Never knew you were such a—”

  She lifted her hand. “Don’t even go there.”

  “Okay, an hour. Where do you want to eat?”

  “Choose some place nice without a wait,” she said.

  “Nice,” he said.

  “I could go for some seafood,” she suggested.

  He nodded. “Sixty minutes and counting.”

  Sophie dashed out of the car and ran up the stairs to her apartment. Stripping, she stepped into a hot shower she didn’t want to leave. But she forced herself, dried off and pulled on a knockabout dress.

  Dabbing on a bit of blush, lip gloss and mascara, she ran her fingers through her hair and pulled it up into a messy bun. She grabbed a sweater and suddenly, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen. “You’re here already?” she asked.

  “I got bored,” Max said.

  “No surprise there,” she said dryly.

  “You ready?”

  “Close enough,” she said. “I’ll be downstairs in a couple of moments.”

  Sophie skipped down the stairs to the front door to find Max waiting for her. She dashed inside the car before he could help her inside.

  “You could have let me pretend to be a gentleman,” he grumbled, putting the car in gear.

  “I saw the cars waiting behind you. Where are we going?”

  He smiled. “It’s a surprise. Bet you haven’t been there.”

  She felt a ripple of excitement inside her. “I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

  “You will,” he said and turned on some jazz music.

  She immediately sank back into her seat and tried not to smell his clean, masculine scent. There was already too much about him that she found irresistible. He drove the car up a winding mountain road and finally stopped outside a restaurant surrounded by lights.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “I guess. What’s this?”

  “The Chantaine Mountain Restaurant,” he said. “Spectacular views.”

  Sophie glanced at her simple beach dress. “Am I appropriately dressed?”

  “You’re perfect,” he said and stepped out of the car. He crossed to her side as she opened the car door. He held the door open and helped her out of the car.

  “You’re sure about this?” she asked as they walked toward the restaurant.

  “Sure as can be,” he said and led her inside the front door. He gave his name to the host and they were quickly led to a table next to the windows that surrounded the restaurant.

  Sophie sank into her seat, looking down at the beautiful sight below her. Lights shone throughout the mountain beneath them. In the bay, more lights flickered near the water. “It’s so lovely.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Not bad.”

  She glanced up at him in disbelief. “Not bad? It’s stunning.”

  Max shrugged. “I think what I’m looking at right now is stunning.”

  Sophie’s heart stopped as she realized he was talking about her. Reality quickly slapped her upside the head. “Me, stunning? What have you been smoking?” she asked and opened the menu. “You must want me to go to a location where I could get shot or eaten by pygmies.”

  Chapter Eight

  That was when Max realized that seducing Sophie might not be as easy as he’d thought. He was clearly going to have to prove to her that he wanted her. After dinner, he drove back to town and insisted on escorting her to her apartment.

  “Thanks for dinner,” she said. “It was a fun day.”

  “Yes, it was,” he said and lowered his head toward hers.

  He heard her gasp of surprise just before his mouth connected with her ear. She had turned her head.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, clearly peeved. “Do you think I don’t remember the last time you did this? And then apologized?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” She gave a sharp nod of her head. “So, good night,” she said and rushed inside her apartment, closing the door in his face.

  Scrubbing his chin, he walked down the stairs to his car. Why had he suddenly decided that he had to have Sophie? He’d sp
ent years telling himself to stay away from women who he could develop feelings for. Especially her. It would ruin their work relationship. The truth was that the work relationship wasn’t enough for him anymore. Not after he’d seen her light up from David’s attention. If any man was going to make Sophie smile or laugh, it was going to be him. Not some advisor to Stefan. His desire for her was beginning to feel more like a need. And that could be dangerous.

  * * *

  The following week, Sophie was slammed with work demands. She went in early and stayed late and told herself not to think about how Max had tried to kiss her. The good part of all that work was that she had a valid reason to turn down David the two times he called to ask her out for dinner. When Friday arrived, she was ready to sequester herself in her apartment with some of Chantaine’s fabulous gelato and catch some mind-numbing television.

  Just as she was leaving the work trailer, Max was walking into it.

  “Hey,” he said. “Do you have plans tonight?”

  “Kinda,” she said, trying to scoot past him.

  “What are they?” he asked with no apology for his nosiness.

  “To be a bum. I’m tired,” she said.

  “Me, too. Can I be a bum with you?”

  She couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t think you’d like the menu or the itinerary. I’m eating gelato and watching a chick program on television.”

  “All negotiable,” he said. “I’ll bring beer and pizza to have before the gelato. Granted, Chantaine pizza is sissy pizza, but we’ll make do.”

  “What about the TV show?”

  “We’ll figure it out,” he hedged, taking off his construction hat.

  “I’m not watching Robocop,” she warned him.

  “We’ll work it out,” he said and stepped into the trailer.

  “Should’ve said I had a date,” she muttered to herself. “Would’ve had a date if I’d said yes to David.”

  Shrugging off her self-castigation, she got into her car and figured she’d better buy some extra gelato. After she arrived at her apartment, she took a shower and changed into non-seductive, comfy clothes. Jeans and a T-shirt. Perfect, she thought. She was going to pretend that having Max over for a bum night was the same as having a girlfriend visit for a girls’ night.

  Still suspicious that Max was getting ready to sweet-talk her into the next project, she reached for her mascara. Then she realized what she was doing and jammed the tube back into the cosmetics case.

  She ruffled her fingers through her hair and went to the den. She should find the most girly TV show possible. That would make him leave early. Maybe that way she wouldn’t make a fool of herself with him again. Unfortunately, Chantaine didn’t carry Say Yes to yhe Dress. There was, however, a British period movie on tap. Surely, that would work.

  * * *

  Despite the fact that he was worn out from the work week, Max took the steps to Sophie’s apartment two at a time. Juggling beer and a pizza, he realized he’d missed being with just her since last weekend. Even when she was putting him off, she made him feel better inside. He knocked at her door and she took her time answering.

  “Hi, there. Listen, I need to warn you that I’m going to have to call an early night tonight. Remember, we’re starting work on that center for handicapped kids in the morning, and I’m going to need some rest.”

  “No problem,” he told her, setting the pizza box down on the table. “What are we watching tonight?” he asked, glancing at the television.

  “A British period piece,” she said with a hint of a catlike smile. “PBS special. Four hours long.”

  “Wow,” he said, wondering how he would make it through. “I guess we can play drinking games.”

  “I’ve never done that and I don’t plan—”

  “Great time to start,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Hey, it’s just beer, and you said you needed a good night of sleep.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ll get some plates.”

  Soon enough, she returned with plates and glasses filled with water. “What’s with the water?”

  “To counter the drinking games,” she said, plopping down beside him on the sofa.

  “We’ll start with FUBAR,” he said, putting several bottles of beer on the table. “You got a deck of cards?”

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  “It’s a great idea,” he insisted.

  Sophie reluctantly got a deck of cards and gave it to him. “What exactly is the game of FUBAR?”

  “I shuffle the cards and spread them out on the table. You turn one over and that determines what you drink. Ace you take one drink. You can drink water. I’m not trying to get you drunk.”

  “I’m not sure about this,” she said.

  “It’ll be fine,” he said. “Just fine.” He shuffled the cards twice and spread them out on the coffee table. He glanced at her with a sexy smile. “Pick a card.”

  She did and it was five.

  “Five drinks, darlin’,” he said and gave her a beer.

  Sophie wasn’t a fan of drinking games, but she took the sips. “Your turn,” she said and leaned back against the sofa.

  He drew an eight. “You have to rhyme my word. Weather.”

  “Heather,” she immediately said.

  “You’re good,” he said. “Your draw with the cards.”

  She pulled a ten of spades.

  “Social. Everyone drinks,” he said.

  She took a baby sip. “If you say so.” She also took a sip of water. “Can we take a break and eat pizza?”

  “Works for me,” he said.

  Even though Max called it sissy pizza, Sophie enjoyed it. The pizza seemed a bit more healthy than the North American counterpart. “Very good,” she said. “I wish we could find this in D.C.”

  “Philadelphia pizza is better,” he said.

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” she countered and took another slice of pizza. “I need to pace myself for the gelato.”

  “We call that ice cream in Ohio,” he said, gobbling down a slice of pizza.

  “It’s better than ice cream,” she said as she headed for her freezer. She pulled out the gelato and grabbed some spoons from the drawer and bowls from the cabinet. Returning to the den, she set the carton on the table. “Better than beer. Better than pizza,” she said and plunged a large spoon into the gelato.

  “If you say so,” he said, with a doubtful expression. He scooped a healthy amount into a bowl and lifted a spoonful to his mouth. “It’s pretty good.”

  “It’s heavenly,” she countered and scooped some into her own bowl. She took a bite and couldn’t withhold a moan. “Delicious.”

  “Yeah,” he said, staring at her mouth. “I get it.”

  “So, you’ll never argue with me about gelato again,” she said.

  “Never,” he said, putting his spoon in her bowl and lifting it to her mouth. “Take a bite, sweetheart.”

  It felt like a bad-girl moment, but Sophie took the gelato in her mouth and licked the bottom of the spoon. She could have sworn she heard him moan when she licked that spoon, but she wasn’t sure. Meeting his gaze, she sighed. “Gelato is amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go back to the card game.”

  “As long as I can drink water,” she said.

  “No problem,” he said. “Just pick a card.”

  “Two,” she said as she turned over the card.

  “You got off easy. Just two drinks.”

  Sophie took two sips of water.

  They continued to play and Sophie alternately drank water and beer. Soon enough, however, she grew drowsy, more from a full, satisfied tummy and the long work week than the measly beer and a half she’d consumed. “Whew, I’m getting
tired. Maybe I should go to bed.”

  “Let me give you a neck massage,” he offered. “I hear I’m good at it.”

  “I bet you are,” she said, wondering how many women had complimented his massages, but she turned her back toward him despite her reservations.

  Soon enough, he was rubbing her neck and it felt so good. Then she felt him rubbing her back. Then back to her neck again.

  “That feels so good,” she murmured.

  “Yeah,” he said, sliding his hands down the side of her breasts and rib cage.

  “Ooh,” she said. He lifted his hands to her neck and he felt her body melt beneath his fingers. He hoped to get a kiss from her tonight. Maybe more. A surge of arousal slid through him.

  “How does this feel?” he asked as he lowered his mouth against her ear.

  “Great,” she whispered. “Great.”

  He continued to knead her neck and shoulders, thinking about all the things he wanted to do to her. How much he wanted to kiss her. He could feel how good it would be between them.

  He heard a soft strange noise and stopped, lowering his ear so he could hear her better. After several moments, Max realized that Sophie had fallen asleep. She was, in fact, snoring.

  Well, hell, Max thought, sighing. No night of passion in his future.

  He stared at her for a long moment and felt a warm sensation in his chest. She looked kinda sweet when she was sleeping. He gently picked her up and carried her down the hall to her bedroom.

  She frowned and her eyes fluttered as he set her down on the bed. “What—”

  “Shh. Sweet dreams,” he whispered and brushed a kiss on her head.

  He must have reassured her or she was flat-out exhausted because she took a deep breath and fell right back to sleep. Max watched her for a long moment then left her bedroom and cleaned up the trash from the den. He felt oddly reluctant to leave and couldn’t explain it for the life of him, but being with Sophie even when she was sleeping felt better than not being with her at all.

  Weird, he thought, and dismissed the intimate feelings he had toward her. Must have been that combination of pizza and gelato, he decided and headed to his own apartment.

  * * *

  Sophie awakened to a sliver of light shining through the blinds. Disoriented, she quickly realized that she was in her own bed, but she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt instead of pajamas. The last thing she remembered was getting a wonderful massage from Max. She blinked and sat up. He must have carried her to bed. Embarrassment rushed through her. She must have been far more tired than she’d realized.