Grand Passion

eye.”
    Max gazed down at her for a long while. Then his mouth quirked in a strange fashion. “Speaking of paintings, you really don't know where my Luttrells are, do you?”
    “Nope.” Cleo sat up. “I'm sorry, Max, but Jason never said a word about them to me.”
    “I believe you.”
    “Good, because it's the truth.” Cleo smiled as she got to her feet. She found her glasses and pushed them onto her nose. “Holy cow, look at the time. I'd better get dressed and get to my room.”
    “Stay here with me tonight.”
    She gave him a wistful look as she pulled on her shirt. “I wish I could, but I can't. George might need to get in touch with me for some reason. He'd call my room, not yours.”
    “Call him now and let him know you're here with me.”
    Cleo blushed as she tugged on her jeans. “That would be a little awkward, don't you think?”
    “No,” Max said. “It would be honest.”
    “It isn't a matter of honesty, it's matter of privacy.” Cleo stepped into her silver sneakers and leaned down to tie the laces. “And it isn't just him. Anyone else who needs me would look for me in my own room, too. People would worry if they couldn't find me.”
    Max sat up slowly. “If that's the way you want it, I'll walk you to your room.”
    “You don't have to do that.” Cleo glanced up as Max shoved the sheet aside. The light of the bedside lamp revealed the jagged white scar on his thigh. “Oh, Max,” she whispered.
    He looked at her and saw the expression on her face. His eyes hardened as he reached for his trousers. “Sorry. I know it's not a pretty sight.”
    “Don't be ridiculous.” Cleo hastened over to him and knelt beside the bed. She touched his leg with light, questing fingers. “No wonder it bothers you so much of the time. Does Andromeda's tea help?”
    Max looked at her hands on his thigh. “Surprisingly enough, it does. But not as much as your massage technique.”
    Cleo stroked and squeezed gently. “My God, when I think about how much it must have hurt….”
    “Don't think about it,” Max said dryly. “I don't.”
    “It must have been a terrible accident.”
    “It was my fault,” Max said. “I screwed up.”
    Cleo studied the odd, puckered scar. “Were you driving?”
    He smiled faintly. “Yes.” He pulled on his trousers and levered himself to his feet. “Sure you don't want to stay?”
    Cleo stood. “I'd love to stay. But I don't think it would be a good idea.” She glanced at the tea tray. “Promise me you'll drink the tea before you go to bed.”
    “It'll be cold.”
    “It doesn't matter,” Cleo insisted. “Drink it anyway.”
    “All right.” He traced the outline of her mouth with his finger. “I promise. Come on. We'd better get you to your room. You've got an inn to run, and I've got a long drive ahead of me in the morning. We both need some rest.”
    She closed her fingers around his wrist. “Thank you for finding Ben for us.”
    Max's jaw tightened. “You're welcome. But you do understand that I can't guarantee I'll be able to talk him into returning, Cleo.”
    “I know.” She smiled. “But somehow I think it will all work out. I'm sure that deep down Ben wants to come back to Trisha and the baby.”
    “I wish you and the others weren't so damn optimistic about it.” Max picked up his cane and started for the door. His hand closed almost violently around the knob. “What happens if I can't convince him to come back here?”
    “He'll come back with you,” Cleo said, feeling extraordinarily confident.
    Max said nothing in response. He walked her down the attic stairs and along the corridor to the tower room. When they reached her door he stopped and turned to face her. He tipped her chin up with his finger.
    “Cleo,” he said slowly, “about tonight. I'm not quite sure what to say.”
    “It's all right, Max.” Cleo stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips across his cheek. “You don't have to say anything.” She opened the door to her room and stepped inside. “Good night.”
    Max examined her in silence for a long moment, as if memorizing every detail of her face. “Good night, Cleo.”
    He turned and went down the hall to the attic stairs.
    Cleo closed the door and leaned back against it. The glorious euphoria was still flowing in her veins. The whole world looked warm and rosy tonight. The future had never seemed so bright and full of promise.
    She raised her eyes heavenward and smiled. “Jason Curzon, I don't know what you did with