And she didn’t. She needed the actions. She needed Maks to put her first, to treat her like she mattered and he did that. His life was both high-profile and extremely busy, but Maks didn’t cancel dates, he didn’t show up late, and he didn’t dismiss her interests or her career as a studio photographer.
“Hmmph.”
That sound was almost as concerning as the older woman’s tone earlier. It implied that Nana would be having a talk with Maks.
Gillian sighed. The man would have to be strong enough to withstand a talking-to, or ten, if they were going to be married.
“Are you and Papa enjoying Vegas?” she asked, hoping to turn to the topic.
“He lost money at the blackjack tables, but I won on the slots.” The glee in her grandmother’s tone brought a smile to Gillian’s face.
“Is Rich still meeting you two for dinner next week?”
“He hasn’t texted us to cancel.” Nana’s lack of fondness for texting came through in the way she said the word.#p#????#e#
“Good.”
“I suppose we’ll have good news to tell him.”
“I think so.” The doorbell rang. “That’s him, I’ve got to go.”
“You call us tomorrow, you hear?”
“Yes, Nana.” With news.
Smiling, Gillian rushed to answer the door summons. Her gaze fell on the manila envelope with the results from her latest physical. She hadn’t read it yet, but didn’t expect anything surprising.
Gillian had her physical yearly, something her father had insisted on since she’d nearly died from appendicitis at the age of sixteen. She chose to see it as proof of affection he never gave voice to.
Maks looked serious and devastatingly attractive in his black Armani suit as Gillian pulled the door open.
She smiled up at all six feet four inches of muscular male towering confidently in her doorway. “You’re early.”
“And yet you are ready. You are no ordinary woman, Gillian Harris.” He didn’t return her smile, but his espresso-brown eyes traveled down her body like a caress.
He always did that, making her feel like all the super models in the world wouldn’t take his attention from her decidedly normal blond hair, blue eyes, average height and curves.
She stepped back to let him in. “Nana didn’t stand for tardiness.”
“And here I believed you were so eager to see me, you could not wait to get dressed,” he teased.
She grinned up at him. “That, too.”
He lowered his head and kissed her, his lips brushing hers in polite greeting. She returned the kiss, letting her mouth open just slightly because she liked the feel of their breath mingling.
He made an inarticulate sound and deepened the kiss, pulling her body flush to his as he maneuvered them back into her apartment. As so often happened when they kissed, time stopped moving for her and the only thing her consciousness registered was the feel of his lips on hers and his hard body so close.
When he pulled back, they were both breathing a little heavily.
His dark gaze fell to the manila envelope by the door. She’d opened it, but the phone call had come in from Nana before she could skim the contents. She wasn’t worried, though. At twenty-six, she was young. She lived a healthy lifestyle and showed no signs of illness.
Nana would chastise her nonetheless. It was a good thing the older woman was in Las Vegas.
“You got your results.” There was a curiously flat quality to Maks’s tone.
She nodded and led the way into the living room. “Would you like something to drink before we go?”
“I’ll take a shot of Old Pulteney, if you have it.”
“You know I do.” She’d kept the twenty-one-year-old single malt whiskey on hand since he’d admitted to it being his drink of choice.
Gillian poured Maks two fingers in a rock glass, no ice, and handed it over.
“Thank you.” He took a larger sip than usual.
She smiled, charmed by the evidence of nervousness in a man so completely self-assured.
“You never told me you had appendicitis when you were sixteen.”
“You never asked.” He’d seen the scar, faded and small though it was.
She was surprised it had been mentioned in her health report, though. His doctor had obviously done a much more thorough examination than her own GP for this physical. She wasn’t surprised in the least that Maks had read the report with such attention to detail, though.
That was very much like him.
Maks frowned and took a sip of his drink.
Not sure why having had appendicitis was worth a frown, Gillian poured club soda over ice and added a slice of lime, her drink of choice. Maybe Maks was like her father and responded strongly to the knowledge she’d almost died.