Grand Passion

supposed to sleep tonight.”
    Cleo stared at him. “Where do you want to sleep tonight?”
    “Here.” Max wedged the toe of his shoe into the narrow opening between the door and its frame. “With you.”
    “Oh.”
    He braced his hand against the door frame. “Is that all you can say?”
    Cleo flushed a vivid shade of pink. “I wasn't sure what you wanted to do. I mean, I didn't know how you were feeling about the situation. I thought you might need a little time to get in touch with your emotions.”
    “You're starting to sound like Tobias Quinton.”
    Cleo smiled weakly. “I am, aren't I? Well? Are you in touch with your feelings?”
    “I know what I want.” Max flattened one hand against the door and pushed gently inward. He would not force his way into her bedroom, he told himself. He would just lean a little and see if she leaned back. If she didn't, he would have the answer to his question.
    “ Max .”
    The door gave way abruptly as Cleo released her grip on it and stepped aside. Max realized at the last instant that he was leaning a lot more heavily against the door than he had intended. He lost his balance. His bad leg started to give way. He almost fell into the room.
    He was saved from sprawling ignominiously on the floor by the counter force exerted when Cleo slammed into his arms. He staggered once and managed to get a firm grip on both Cleo and his cane. He steadied himself as she hugged him very tightly.
    “I didn't know what to think this morning when I realized you had packed all your things,” Cleo said into his chest. “And then when that Kimberly Curzon-Winston person showed up and told me that you worked for her, things got more confusing.”
    “I know. It's all right. I've been just as confused today.” Max caught her chin on the edge of his hand, tipped up her face, and kissed her. Hard.
    Cleo put her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with sweet fervor. Without lifting his mouth from hers, Max eased her back against the edge of the bed. They collapsed together on top of the old-fashioned quilt.
    This was what it meant to come home, Max thought.

    An hour later Cleo stirred in the darkness. “Max?”
    “Umm?” He barely heard her. He was drifting on the edge of sleep, his body satiated, his mind at ease. Cleo was cradled against him, her lushly curved derriere pressed against his thighs. The peaceful feeling that consumed him was so unique that he wanted to savor it until he fell asleep.
    “Were you and Kimberly lovers?”
    “Hell.” Max was suddenly wide awake.
    “What did you say?”
    “Nothing important.” Max opened his eyes, folded one arm behind his head, and contemplated the frilly canopy overhead with a brooding glare.
    “So what about you and Kimberly?”
    “We were engaged for a while.”
    “ Engaged .” Cleo shot straight up into a sitting position. “Are you telling me you almost married her?”
    “It was a very short engagement.” Max gave her a cautious glance and saw that she was glowering down at him.
    “How short?” Cleo demanded.
    “Uh, six weeks, I think.” Five weeks and four days. Not that he had been counting at the time.
    Five weeks and four days of thinking that he had finally muscled his way into the inner circle of the Curzon family. Five weeks and four days of believing he had made a secure, permanent place for himself in Jason's world.
    “You think? Can't you remember?”
    Max groaned. “It was three years ago, Cleo.”
    “What happened?”
    “Nothing happened. We got disengaged, that's all.”
    “Did you change your mind?”
    Max yawned. “She changed hers,” he said before he stopped to think. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew he'd made a grave tactical error. “I mean, it was a mutual decision.”
    But it was too late. Cleo pounced. “She's the one who called off the engagement? Not you?”
    “We decided we weren't meant for each other,” Max said.
    “Why not?”
    “There were a lot of reasons,” Max said.
    “What reasons?”
    Max began to feel hunted. Instinctively he drew a line, just as he always did when someone tried to apply pressure. “Stop pushing, Cleo. My relationship with Kimberly was finished three years ago.”
    “But you've been working for her all this time?”
    “I told you, I worked for Jason, not Kimberly. Now I work for you.”
    “Hmm.” Cleo considered that. “Why did she call off the engagement?”
    Max drummed his fingers lightly on the bed. “She decided