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      “So what is your name, anyway?” she asked as they looked around the apartment to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything.

      “Max,” he said grimly. “Max Angeli.”

      “And I’m Cari Christensen.”

      He looked down at her and almost had to smile. She seemed to be able to maintain a sunny personality despite all odds against it. In contrast to what he was feeling himself, which was dour indeed. “You said that.”

      “I thought you might not have caught it in the heat of the moment.”

      He nodded, mouth twisting. “I wish you’d mentioned it while we were still at the club,” he said. “There you were waving at me with that damn red rose.”

      “Oh!” She stopped and glared at him. “You’re not going to blame this whole catastrophe on me.”

      He liked the fire in her eyes. She wasn’t his type and he would never have picked her out of a crowd, but there was something appealing about her just the same. He liked the liveliness of her reactions and he couldn’t resist teasing her a bit.

      “Why not?” he said with a careless shrug. “If you’d been on your toes, this wouldn’t have happened. You made me stand up the woman I was supposed to be with. You may have killed that relationship.”