Grand Passion

Cleo's eyes. “I don't know what to make of you, Max. I thought I did when you arrived, but now I'm not so sure.”
    “I can prove that I was a friend of Jason's, if that will make you feel more comfortable around me.”
    Her eyes widened. “I believe you were Jason's friend.”
    “And I apologized for thinking you were Jason's mistress.”
    “Yes, I know.” She waved a hand in a magnanimous gesture. “I've decided not to hold that against you any longer, by the way.”
    “Thank you,” Max said humbly.
    “I mean, I can sort of see where you might have gotten the impression that Jason and I were…well, never mind.” Cleo blushed. “I can see where you got the idea.”
    “When you decide what it is that's still bothering you about me,” Max said gently, “let me know.”
    “I'll do that.” She watched intently as he rubbed his thigh. “What's wrong with your leg?”
    “It aches a little sometimes. Especially after a long day.”
    “How did you hurt it?” Cleo asked. “Were you in an accident?”
    “You could say that.”
    “How long ago did it happen?”
    He was amused by her sudden fascination with the topic. “Three years ago.”
    “It looks painful.”
    “Occasionally it is.”
    She bit her lip. “I suppose it's bothering you tonight because of all that firewood you lugged into the lobby this afternoon. You should have said something when I asked you to do that.”
    “It's got nothing to do with hauling firewood around. Sometimes it just aches, that's all.”
    “Does massage help?”
    Max shrugged. “I don't know. I've never tried professional massage.”
    “I give a good therapeutic massage.” Cleo's smile was tentative. “I learned how to do it when Andromeda hired a massage therapist to teach the women of Cosmic Harmony. Andromeda's into holistic medicine, you know.”
    “I'm not surprised.”
    “Want me to work on that leg?”
    Max abruptly stopped rubbing his thigh. He flexed his fingers slowly as he imagined what it would feel like to have Cleo's hands on his leg.
    “All right,” Max said. He was going to regret this, he was certain of it. But he seemed to be lacking in willpower tonight.
    Cleo got slowly to her feet. She took two steps to close the distance between them and knelt on the floor beside his chair. Her eyes were huge and luminous behind the lenses of her glasses.
    “Tell me if I hurt you,” she whispered.
    “I will.” Max took a deep breath and waited for the exquisite torture to begin.
    Cleo put her hands on his thigh. For a while she did not move at all. She simply let the warmth of her palms soak through his trousers into his skin.
    Max was startled by the amount of soothing heat she was generating. He looked down at Cleo's bent head. She was concentrating intently on her task. The delicate, sensual curve of her neck was within reach. All he had to do was move his hand a scant six inches or so, and he would be touching her. Max gripped the arms of the chair.
    “You're very tense.” Cleo frowned as she pressed her fingertips gently into his hard, muscled flesh. “Try to relax. According to the massage therapist who taught me how to do this, the chief cause of soreness in the muscles is tension.”
    “I'll try to remember that.”
    She began to knead his thigh with long, smooth strokes. “How does that feel?”
    “Good.” It was true, Max realized, surprised. No one had ever offered to massage his leg for him since his “accident.” He hadn't realized how soothing it would feel to have someone else work on the knotted muscles of his thigh.
    “Andromeda is very good with herbs. I'll ask her to mix up something you can use as a muscle relaxant,” Cleo said.
    Max winced at the thought. “Never mind. I generally use brandy when things get bad.”
    “I think you'll find one of Cosmic Harmony's herbal teas will work just as well. The guests love them.”
    Max didn't feel like arguing. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensual touch of Cleo's hands. Another window, he thought. Another glimpse into the intriguing depths of Cleopatra Robbins.
    Long minutes passed during which Max's leg began to feel infinitely better. But the massage did nothing to diminish the driving need inside him. The sense of urgency was growing beyond control.
    “Cleo, I've been reading The Mirror ,” Max said.
    Her hands stilled. Max swore silently, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut.
    “I suppose you think it's pornography, just like Nolan did.”
    “No,” Max said.