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instead.
    But Sholto was unlikely to ring.
No one wanted to revisit the most shameful episodes in their life, and even
though Sholto Kincaid seemed to be as full of himself as he’d been a decade
ago, she still held out hope that perhaps he’d matured a little.
    Making the phone call was just
step one in her campaign.
    Step two presented itself out of
the blue with a phone call from a client. She was seated at her desk going
through paperwork, when the phone buzzed.
    “Hi, I have Jasper Watson for
you—he says it’s an emergency.”
    “Put him through.” Jasper was a
regular client, a repeat client, the type of client she wanted to keep. His
tastes were unusual, and some of his fantasies were definitely out there, but
he was a straight up guy, and he always paid promptly. “Jasper, good to hear
from you.”
    “Max, thank God. I have a problem.”
    Max parked her pencil behind her
ear. “What’s up?” She hoped to hell it wasn’t crisis management.
    “I have to go to a film premiere
tonight, and I need a date.”
    Max breathed out the breath she’d
been holding. She’d stepped off the dating treadmill months ago after
everything had gone so badly wrong. Jasper was a client she couldn’t afford to
snub, but she hadn’t ever expected he would want to date her.
    Before she could formulate a
reply, he elaborated.
    “The press will be there. I don’t
want to take anyone who might misconstrue the situation—might think I’m
inviting them because I want a relationship. I need someone who will look sexy
but not slutty, be charming, and make me look good, without all the
complications. I need someone I can trust. I need you, Max. Are you free
tonight?”
    The tension left Max’s shoulders. She’d
be breaking a date with her TV and a bottle of wine—a date well worth breaking.
    “Sure. What’s the film?”
    Jasper made that sound, a half-laugh
filled with embarrassment. “It’s After Ecstasy . I don’t really want to go,
but…”
    Sholto’s film? Max leaned back on
her office chair, and swung her legs up onto its edge. Her mouth stretched into
a wide smile. Could anything be more perfect? “What time will you pick me up?”
    After Jasper’s call, she did a
quick, mental inventory of her closet. She had the perfect dress, but needed to
buy drop-dead gorgeous, fuck-me heels to match. Tonight was a night for pulling
out all the stops.
    She snatched her bag off the
floor, powered down her computer, and was on the point of leaving the office
when her cellphone buzzed.
    An unknown number.
    Curious, she answered.
    “Maxine.” A deep, dark, sexy voice
with a hint of Scottish accent rose the hairs on the back of her neck.
    She swallowed. “This is she.” She
sat back down again.
    “Sholto Kincaid.” She closed her
eyes. Christ, he sounds delicious.
    “Ah, Sholto. Thank you for getting
back to me so quickly.” She forced her voice neutral. “It’s been a long time.”
    “I didn’t think you’d ever want to
talk to me again—I did try, you know.”
    Against her will, despite her
assurance earned over the years since she’d been an innocent, his words jerked
her back to their shared history. Whatever he would say she didn’t want to
hear—didn’t want to be reminded of the past. She had to take control of this
conversation, and quickly.
    She forced a laugh, which sounded
false as hell to her own ears. “That was all a long time ago. I do want to see
you, though. I know you’re in London, and wondered if you might have time for a
quick meeting.”
    There was silence on the other end
of the line for a moment. “What is this about?”
    She swallowed. “I want a business
meeting—half an hour at most. I have a proposition for you.”
    “A proposition—I guess you’re not
married then?” There was a hint of tease in his voice.
    “Believe it or not, there are some
women immune to you, Sholto. No, I’m not married—although what my marital
status has to do with meeting me on a business matter