“Have you spoken to him?” She tried to picture that conversation and couldn’t quite do it.
“No.”
“Then you don’t know what regrets are still open wounds in his heart.” She could not fathom any parent not regretting being a nonentity in Max’s life.
Ruthless the man might be, but he was a son to be proud of.
“He offered money and bringing his influence to bear to facilitate our immigration in exchange for silence on my mother’s part. Both about her relationship with him and about my existence. She was never even allowed to name him.”
“That could be because his choices were limited, not because he didn’t want you.” She didn’t know why it was so important to her to convince Max of that.
“Your heart is too tender.” He reached out to brush her hair behind her ear. “You need someone to watch over you and make sure the world does not rip it to shreds.”
“Like you’re trying to do?”
He let his hand fall away. “Not even close. I’m offering you a place in my life, not coming after you with a scalpel directed at your heart.”
“Nice image.” No way was she going to admit she missed the warmth of his hand.
“I am Russian. Imagery is in my blood.”
“Russians are also known for their passionate natures.”
“You have reason to believe that of me.” His meaning was clear.
He was equating passion to sex while she’d been talking about emotion. Nothing new about that, but maybe it wasn’t the epic misunderstanding she’d always considered it.
He was willing to acknowledge his sexual nature and need. Could that be a way to his heart?
And did she have the courage to even try?
Did she even want to? Was the remote possibility of finding a way to his deeper emotions worth putting hers at risk?
She could walk away right now and it would hurt, but she would get over him.
Eventually.
The past year had at least shown her the former if not the latter.
But he wasn’t just asking her to take a chance on dating, on a relationship. He wasn’t asking anything.
He was blackmailing her and because Max saw the whole thing as some kind of business deal with fringe benefits, he didn’t even think there was anything wrong with that.
“The fringe benefits, as you call them, go both directions,” he said, a sardonic twist to his mouth.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Darn it.
He smirked, his hand gliding along her thigh suggestively. “Yes.”
Romi did her best to ignore the sparks dancing along her nerve endings from his touch. “So, you’re not going to tell me about the loss that proved to you that love was weakness, are you?”
“You believe I’ve suffered some trauma that left me incapable of letting my emotions control me?” He left his hand resting on her thigh, but stilled its movement.
“Have you?”
“I learned early that romantic love didn’t count for much when other more important considerations were on the table, but it wasn’t anything my mother hadn’t been telling me since before I could walk.”
Romi couldn’t take her eyes off that large masculine hand covering her thigh. “Your mom doesn’t believe in love?”
“With good reason. No affection ever lasted beyond the point at which she became an inconvenience.”
“She doesn’t seem bitter.” While Romi had only met her a handful of times, she’d never gotten the impression that Natalya Black was one of those cynical women that made everyone bleed with their bitterness.
“She is not. She is a realist.”
Who had taught her son to see erotic love as a weakness. “And she wanted to protect you from heartache.”
“Yes.” He looked a little surprised by the idea and his own agreement to it.
“How old were you when you learned this lesson?” The idea of him in love hurt her in some indefinable way, especially if he’d been a vulnerable teen, risking his heart.
“Ten.”
“So not a personal loss?” Surprise, surprise.
“It was very personal.”
“But the romance was between your mother and her lover.” No way had Max been in love at such a young age.
“Batya made Mama glow for three years.”
“He was Russian?”
“No. He was American. Batya is a Russian nickname for father. It is what I called him.”
And Max hadn’t reverted to using the man’s given name later. That said something about how deeply the hurt went. How ingrained that role had been in Max’s heart.
“And you?”
“He lived with us, though I realized later it must only have seemed that way. Our home was not his, but he was there every evening, adding a sense of security to our small house. Batya took me to ball games, came to my school and culture center activities. He sat at the head of our table on holidays and took us out for our birthdays.”
In other words, he’d been Max’s dad. For a little while anyway. “But it didn’t last.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“Probably not.” The lesson here was that Max had clearly opened his heart to this man who had acted like a father, only to have it crushed when the man walked away.
“Have you ever been in love?”
“No chance.” The words were spoken with such quiet vehemence, she knew he had never been that vulnerable teenager she worried about.
Max truly had learned his lessons early and he’d taken them to heart until no one would accuse him of having one.
“Me, either.” And honestly?
She wasn’t keen to fall right now, but every minute spent in this man’s company was undermining Romi’s belief she had any say in the matter.
She wasn’t sure what it was about that sad little story that got to her so much, but no way could she ever see Max as a monster. No matter what pressures he brought to bear for his marriage plan.
“You really hedged your bets with this marriage thing, didn’t you?” she asked, needing to move away from the emotional morass their discussion had become for her.
“If by that you mean I considered every contingency, you would be right.”
“Maddie is out of town on her honeymoon. You know I don’t want to interrupt her with a call to ask about her contingency plan.”
“You do not trust me regarding the details?”
“Should I?”
He considered that for a moment. “Perhaps not, but I have never lied to you, nor will I ever.”
“I’m not sure you telling me that in the same conversation you admit to setting up a truly untenable situation for me can carry much weight for me.”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “Call Jeremy Archer.”
“He lies.”
“If anything, he would be tempted to deny it, yes?”
“Yes. So, why would you trust him to back you up?”
Max shrugged. “Few businessmen in this town would cross me without very strong provocation. Viktor maybe, but Jeremy? He’s too wrapped up in his company to risk it by lying about me.”
“Without compelling cause.”
“Precisely.”
“How do I know my dad is in rehab?” She wasn’t sure what was pushing her to question the reliability of everything he claimed, but she had this irresistible urge to prick the bubble of his confidence.
Even if only a little.
Rather than appear in the list “pricked,” Max looked smugly satisfied by his planning. “He will get a single phone call before going into immersion therapy, during which he will be allowed no external contact. Not with family. Not for his business.”
> “That works in your favor.”
“It is my habit to make sure most things do.”
“Wow, the arrogance level just skyrocketed in here.”
Max smiled, amusement glinting in his gray eyes. “Arrogance is defined as excessive confidence. Mine, on the other hand, is well-founded.”
“I won’t argue that.”
“I would not expect you to. You are far too intelligent to take on the hopeless cause.”
“Oh, I don’t know. According to a lot of men in your position, my activism on behalf of the environment is exactly that.”
“I do not agree.”
And that should give her hope, shouldn’t it? How pragmatic was it to be a CEO so committed to sustainability? She was sure he would say very pragmatic, but only if you had an eye and a heart for the future.