Best Modern Romances Of The Year 2017. Maisey Yates

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СКАЧАТЬ the little being snug in his arms. Her eyes and hair might be dark like his own but the shape of her eyes, her mouth and possibly her little button nose were all her mother’s. Her very beautiful mother. Max breathed in deep, fighting the reaction of his body with all his strength. He had been crude but the truth was the truth. All the months without Tia had suddenly just piled up in the back of his brain like a giant rock crushing him. Life without Tia was dull, predictable and barely worth living.

      * * *

      A bastard who will take you any way he can get you.

      Tia had been shaken by that statement but strangely fired up by his raw conviction as well. Max was very likely illegitimate, she acknowledged, for the background he had described seemed unlikely to have contained legally wedded parents. Why on earth was she thinking about something so irrelevant when Max had laid down what he wanted and it was all—from the sex to the immediate relocation—unacceptable?

      The trouble was...life without Max was equally unacceptable because she wasn’t happy. That was a huge admission for Tia to make to herself when she had worked so hard to achieve independence. She adored her baby, she loved her little house and her embryo business, but existing deprived of Max’s presence was like eating curry every day without the spice. Nothing else could compare to the joy of knowing Max was in the room next door, within reach and with their daughter. Even though he was angry, knowing Max was near her again was like her every fantasy come true, she acknowledged shamefacedly. She still loved him. She hadn’t got over him. She looked at him and the wanting kicked in again within seconds and it was like coming alive after a long stretch of being denied sunshine and stimulation. Could she settle for the wanting? It did seem to be all Max had to give her.

      ‘I’ll show you how to feed her.’ Tia slotted the bottle into his lean brown hand and showed him the angle. ‘She guzzles it down quickly at this time of night.’

      And Max settled back into a more relaxed pose and fed their child and the sight of them together warmed the cold space inside Tia, because she had feared that her baby would never have a proper father and that that was entirely her fault. Max followed her upstairs and watched her settle Sancha again.

      ‘You said something about my grandfather not being the man you thought he was,’ she reminded him softly. ‘What was that about?’

      Max groaned. ‘I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’

      ‘Whatever it is, tell me. I’m sure Andrew wasn’t a saint all his life. Nobody is,’ she said wryly.

      ‘Did you notice the interest at the dining table on the night you first arrived when you mentioned my aunt’s death?’ Max prompted.

      ‘Yes, I did,’ Tia admitted.

      ‘When I was in my teens, I came back to Redbridge from school unannounced one day and saw Andrew and my aunt kissing. I was shocked,’ Max confided. ‘Shocked and embarrassed. It was never discussed but I picked up on the evidence after that and realised they’d been having an affair for years.’

      ‘Never...discussed... I mean, even after she died?’ Tia pressed in disbelief.

      ‘Never,’ Max confirmed. ‘I don’t think it was any great love affair. I think it was two lonely people finding comfort in each other. Andrew was depressed for a long time after his wife passed away and, although he and my aunt were very discreet, a lot of the family knew about their relationship and regarded her as his mistress.’

      Tia wrinkled her nose with distaste. ‘That must have been awkward for you.’

      Max shrugged. ‘I was used to stuff that is whispered behind backs and never openly declared. When I lived in Italy my parents were despised for their lifestyle and I was despised too. Secrets were familiar to me as well. I was also intelligent enough to realise that Andrew probably paid for my fancy boarding school education because an adolescent hanging around on a daily basis would have cramped their style. But I can’t complain because I benefitted from that education.’

      ‘I’m surprised he didn’t marry her.’

      ‘Marrying his housekeeper wouldn’t have been Andrew’s style,’ Max opined wryly.

      On the landing, Tia turned in an unsettled half-circle. ‘I assume you’re planning to stay here tonight.’

      ‘Yes. I have an overnight bag in my car. I’ll bring it in.’

      As it was a two-bedroom house with only one small double bed in her room, an involuntary tingle that was far removed from panic shimmied through Tia. What was she playing at? What was she planning to do? Obviously she had to return to Redbridge Hall and deal with matters there, whether she was making arrangements for the house in the short term or more lasting plans for the future. That was, undeniably, her responsibility.

      More importantly, Max was demanding full access to Sancha and she could hardly criticise him for that. Their daughter would benefit from a normal relationship with her father. And Tia, who didn’t want to picture a future empty of Max, wanted that as well.

      ‘Is there a shower I can use?’ Returned to the present, Tia showed Max the bathroom, which was perfectly presentable because she had had to have it replaced soon after moving in.

      He had arrived with an overnight bag. The significance of that when there was little accommodation to rent in the village outside the tourist season made Tia’s lips quirk. Max had never planned to take no for an answer. Max had come prepared with an ultimatum.

      He would take her any way he could get her.

      Which was pretty much the same as he had said the day of the funeral.

      Somehow in a very short space of time you became both the icing and the cake... I’m possessive.

      Caveman-speak for love? Whatever he felt for her, time hadn’t changed him in the essentials and she was suddenly awesomely grateful for that reality. He didn’t have a collection of sweet words or compliments to offer her but he was very honest and she loved him for that quality.

      As Max emerged from the bathroom, his shirt loose and unbuttoned to display a slice of bronzed chest, Tia slid past him, clad in a robe, and stepped straight into the shower. He was right: she had run away from Redbridge, using the belief that he didn’t want their child as an excuse. But she had needed that breathing space, that time alone to be independent and self-sufficient so that she could think for herself and finish growing up. She knew now that she could live her dream but that her dream would not be perfect in the starry way she had imagined it. And in truth she no longer wanted that original dream if it didn’t contain Max. Most probably she did not figure in any of Max’s dreams, but perhaps she would have to settle for that because half a loaf was better than no bread at all, particularly when it meant she could live with the man she loved and give her daughter the father she deserved.

      Tia brushed her hair. It rippled in snaking waves across her shoulders, volumised by the braiding she used to confine it every day. Her heart beating very fast, Tia walked back into the bedroom.

      ‘You’re not allowed in the bed,’ Max was telling Teddy grimly as he tried to stop the terrier from tunnelling under the duvet to take up his favourite position.

      ‘He’s a great foot warmer on a cold night.’

      ‘No,’ Max told her forcefully as he straightened, a lithe bronzed figure clad only in silk boxers, his muscular abs rippling with his movement.

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