From Leather to Lace Read Free Page B

before ordering more beers from a hovering waiter. Now that he had turned his attention to the others, Sarah took a moment to study him. He was as tall as she remembered and dressed in dark jeans and an open-necked white shirt. His square jaw was lightly stubbled and his dark hair, expertly cut to suggest careless disarray, curled just above his collar. He was healthily tanned, which indicated that he enjoyed outdoor pursuits, and his body was toned and muscular. He obviously worked out—a lot! Sarah felt her stomach performing flip-flops once again and hoped that the heat she felt in her cheeks was not obvious. As if attuned to her thoughts, he turned to her and fixed her with his dark gaze.
    “Has it only been two weeks since Roxy’s party?” he asked.
    “Yes, but it seems like longer.” Probably because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since then. “I enjoyed meeting you that night and hoped that we might run into each other again, as you didn’t ask me for my number,” Sarah said lightly, hoping that she sounded teasingly nonchalant.
    Max frowned before his smouldering gaze found hers once more. “That is unlike me. I don’t usually hesitate in going after something that I want,” he stated, “but you’re…” He hesitated. “Different.”
    What was she supposed to make of that? Good different or bad different? She looked at him quizzically.
    “Good different,” he said softly as if reading her thoughts.
    “Well, Mr McIver, if I am ‘good different’, how did that stop you asking me for my number?” Sarah asked with a laugh.
    He looked at her intently. “Because I saw something special in you that caught me off guard and I have to admit I wasn’t quite sure that you would have given me your number. That was two strikes—I’m not accustomed to feeling off guard and I’m used to getting what I want.” He shrugged. “I’ve made it up to you now, I hope, and redeemed myself. I’m glad you accepted my invitation even though it was made through Roxy.”
    “I’m very glad you extended it.”
    His intense gaze was unnerving her—she had the distinct impression that he was trying to peer into her soul and she shivered under his scrutiny.
    “I’d like to show you around,” he said suddenly.
    He grabbed a bottle of champagne from a hovering waiter then took Sarah by the hand and tugged her in the direction of the house. Sarah glanced quickly over her shoulder to catch her friend’s eye but Roxy, having seen her departing, just winked wickedly in her direction.
     
    * * * *
     
    Maxwell’s house was truly magnificent and very male—no frills or frippery. The rooms were obviously professionally decorated and could have been mistaken for a display home but for the numerous works of art that adorned many of the walls. She could see the artworks had not been chosen for their colours or design aesthetic but for their character and subject matter. Maxwell told Sarah that the artwork had all been chosen by him and collected over a period of years so she had been given a glimpse into his personality as she studied his choices. His taste was both eclectic and traditional and ranged from large contemporary originals dotted throughout the living areas to the Rubenesque ladies in Norman Lindsay originals adorning some of the bedrooms—he obviously appreciated the female form.
    Much later, after a tour of his house, some dancing and several glasses of champagne, they were seated on a large comfortable outdoor lounge on the upstairs balcony, enjoying the sight of the harbour lights as they glimmered off the water. Sarah was feeling decidedly tipsy and laughed appreciatively as Max recounted an amusing tale that featured Roxy and Adam and an unfortunate excursion in Max’s boat. She could really fall for Maxwell McIver, she thought drowsily as she sipped her champagne. He had all the attributes that she looked for in a man—wit, charm, intelligence and great looks. Sighing, she leant back in her chair