hers in what would have been a comforting grip if she had noticed it, but she paid no attention to his touch. Her mind was already constructing painful scenarios in which Max fell in love with Martine on sight and spent the entire afternoon staring at her with an adoring expression in his turquoise eyes. He would be in pain, too, because Martine wouldnât return the emotion. Martine was deeply in love with her husband and never seemed to be aware of her devastating effect on the male sex.
Claire automatically gave directions, and too soon Max was turning into the driveway of her parentsâ home. The drive was already crowded with her fatherâs BMW and her motherâs small Buick, Steveâs Jeep, and a loaded-down blue van with Michigan license plates. Max parked his car off to the side, under a tree. Claire stared blindly at the roomy Tudor-style house where she had grown up, almost paralyzed with dread of what was to come. Everyone would be in the large backyard, under the enormous chestnut trees; it was too early in the year for the pool to be uncovered, so the children would be running wild on the grass instead of swimming. The adultswould be sitting lazily in the chairs grouped under the trees, and her father would be guarding the steaks and hamburgers slowly smoking on the grill. It would look like suburban heaven, but everything in Claire shrank from the ordeal of walking across the grass toward the small group, knowing that everyone would be avidly staring at the handsome man walking beside her, wondering why on earth he was with someone as ordinary as she, when he could obviously have any woman he wanted. Oh, God, she couldnât do it.
Max opened the car door, and Claire got out. The shouts and laughter of children at play came from the backyard, and he grinned at her. âThat sounds like home. My nieces and nephews are hellions, every one of them, but there are some days when my sanity slips away and I miss their chaos. Shall we?â
His hand was warm on her back, and now she was aware of his touch, because heâd put his hand between her shoulder blades, and his fingers were resting on her bare skin, revealed by the low back of the cheery yellow-striped sundress. As they walked through the gate and came in view of her family, seated beneath the trees just as sheâd pictured them, his thumb rubbed gently across her spine, and the sensation fractured the icy dread that had gripped her stomach. She was helpless against the surge of warmth that washed through her, tightening her nipples and making her breasts feel heated and full. That small touch had thrown her completely off balance. All her defenses had been raised against the dread of having Max meet her family and compare her to them, and sheâd been totally unprepared to deal with the way she responded to him despite the caution of her common sense.
Then they were surrounded by her family, and Claire heard herself making the introductions automatically. Alma was practically beaming at Max, her beautiful face aglow with enthusiasm, and Claireâs father, Harmon, was both dignifiedand warm as he greeted his new guest. There were hugs and kisses as Claire greeted Michael and Celia, conflicting exclamations, the noise of the children as Martineâs two rowdy youngsters, followed closely by Michaelâs two children, charged into the group to hug and kiss Claire, who was their favorite aunt. Martine, who was unbelievably gorgeous in a dazzling white knit top and white shorts that hugged her lithe figure and exhibited the golden length of her long, perfect legs, began good-naturedly trying to bring some sort of order to her children. Celia did the same, but it was several minutes before things settled down. Through it all, Claire was aware of Max standing closely beside her, smiling and chatting with that incredible charm of his that already had everyone eating out of his hand.
âHave you known Claire long?â Alma
Claire automatically gave directions, and too soon Max was turning into the driveway of her parentsâ home. The drive was already crowded with her fatherâs BMW and her motherâs small Buick, Steveâs Jeep, and a loaded-down blue van with Michigan license plates. Max parked his car off to the side, under a tree. Claire stared blindly at the roomy Tudor-style house where she had grown up, almost paralyzed with dread of what was to come. Everyone would be in the large backyard, under the enormous chestnut trees; it was too early in the year for the pool to be uncovered, so the children would be running wild on the grass instead of swimming. The adultswould be sitting lazily in the chairs grouped under the trees, and her father would be guarding the steaks and hamburgers slowly smoking on the grill. It would look like suburban heaven, but everything in Claire shrank from the ordeal of walking across the grass toward the small group, knowing that everyone would be avidly staring at the handsome man walking beside her, wondering why on earth he was with someone as ordinary as she, when he could obviously have any woman he wanted. Oh, God, she couldnât do it.
Max opened the car door, and Claire got out. The shouts and laughter of children at play came from the backyard, and he grinned at her. âThat sounds like home. My nieces and nephews are hellions, every one of them, but there are some days when my sanity slips away and I miss their chaos. Shall we?â
His hand was warm on her back, and now she was aware of his touch, because heâd put his hand between her shoulder blades, and his fingers were resting on her bare skin, revealed by the low back of the cheery yellow-striped sundress. As they walked through the gate and came in view of her family, seated beneath the trees just as sheâd pictured them, his thumb rubbed gently across her spine, and the sensation fractured the icy dread that had gripped her stomach. She was helpless against the surge of warmth that washed through her, tightening her nipples and making her breasts feel heated and full. That small touch had thrown her completely off balance. All her defenses had been raised against the dread of having Max meet her family and compare her to them, and sheâd been totally unprepared to deal with the way she responded to him despite the caution of her common sense.
Then they were surrounded by her family, and Claire heard herself making the introductions automatically. Alma was practically beaming at Max, her beautiful face aglow with enthusiasm, and Claireâs father, Harmon, was both dignifiedand warm as he greeted his new guest. There were hugs and kisses as Claire greeted Michael and Celia, conflicting exclamations, the noise of the children as Martineâs two rowdy youngsters, followed closely by Michaelâs two children, charged into the group to hug and kiss Claire, who was their favorite aunt. Martine, who was unbelievably gorgeous in a dazzling white knit top and white shorts that hugged her lithe figure and exhibited the golden length of her long, perfect legs, began good-naturedly trying to bring some sort of order to her children. Celia did the same, but it was several minutes before things settled down. Through it all, Claire was aware of Max standing closely beside her, smiling and chatting with that incredible charm of his that already had everyone eating out of his hand.
âHave you known Claire long?â Alma
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