Grand Passion

that we came from two different worlds. She was right.”
    “Which two different worlds?”
    “She came from old money, good schools, and a long line of socially acceptable ancestors. She was the heiress to Curzon International. I came from nothing. The only money I have is what I earned working for Jason. Her father did not approve of me. Hell, Kimberly didn't approve of me, herself. Not really.”
    “So she married somebody named Winston?”
    “Roarke Winston.”
    “Let me guess,” Cleo said. “Old money, good schools, a long line of socially acceptable ancestors?”
    “Right. He's in charge of his family's business empire.”
    “What did Kimberly mean when she said I should ask you about your leg?”
    Max gave Cleo another sidelong glance. He had a feeling she was going to prove tenacious. It figured. That quality went right along with the other Girl Scout attributes. “We got engaged shortly after I injured my leg. While I was in the hospital recovering, as a matter of fact. Kimberly was”—he searched for the correct word—“somewhat emotional at the time.”
    “She was worried about you?”
    “I think she was feeling a little guilty.”
    Cleo frowned. “Why? Did she have something to do with your accident?”
    “In a way. She had insisted on flying down to a potential hotel site in South America. I was already on the scene and had decided that it wasn't a good location. I advised her not to come, but she wanted to check it out for herself.”
    “What happened?”
    Max shrugged. “I picked her up at the airport. On the way back into town we were stopped by a bunch of guerrillas who had gotten word that a member of the Curzon family was expected. They were planning to kidnap her and use her as a bargaining chip in their ongoing battle with the local government.”
    “My God.” Cleo was shocked. “What did you do?”
    Max slanted her a strange glance. “When I worked for Jason I spent a lot of time in places where the potential for that kind of thing existed. I routinely carried a gun. Shots were exchanged when I ran the roadblock. One of the shells came through the door of the car and hit my leg.”
    “That's how you got hurt?” Cleo's voice rose to a squeak. “Rescuing Kimberly?”
    “Yes.”
    Cleo clutched his arm. “You could have been killed.”
    “Look, Cleo, this is ancient history, and I don't think there's much point discussing it.”
    “But you could have been killed,” she whispered again. Her nails dug into his arm.
    Max heard the old horror buried in her barely controlled voice. He realized she was no longer concerned about his relationship with Kimberly, but was thinking about her parents' death and her own past.
    “It's all right, Cleo.” He rolled onto his side and pulled her into his arms. “Take it easy. I'm here.”
    She curled into his warmth and clung to him. “I'm okay.”
    “Good.” He stroked her back soothingly. “It's late. Try to get some sleep.”
    She relaxed slightly against him. “You said that your engagement only lasted six weeks?”
    “Give or take a few days.” He strove to sound disinterested. “I've forgotten the exact length of time.”
    “And now Kimberly's married to someone else.”
    “Yes.”
    “She wants you back, Max.” Cleo's voice was bleak. “I can tell.”
    Max smiled into her hair. “Only for business reasons. Her father thinks the company needs me.”
    “Does it?”
    “I don't particularly care if it does or it doesn't. I don't want the job.”
    “You're sure?”
    “I'm sure.” He kissed her throat. “I've got another job.”
    Cleo looked up at him through her lashes. “I'll bet Curzon International pays a heck of a lot better than Robbins' Nest Inn.”
    “That all depends on how you look at it.” Max kissed the sweet, scented curve of her breast and laced his fingers through the soft thatch of hair between her legs. “I'm satisfied with what I'm getting here.”
    “Are you?” Cleo put her hand on his shoulder. “Max, do you still love her?”
    Max was startled by the question. He had never thought about loving Kimberly. He had never thought about loving anyone. “No.”
    “You're sure?”
    “I'm sure.”
    “You say that awfully easily.”
    “It's easy to say.” Max took one nipple into his mouth. It was as firm and ripe as a raspberry. The taste of it sent a shudder of excitement through him. Sexual tension seized his insides.
    “Why is it easy to say? Didn't you love her three years