January gave him a scathing look. ‘Why shouldn’t I be okay?’ she scorned derisively.
Surely he didn’t think she would still be visibly upset about Sunday evening? If he did, he was going to be sadly disappointed! She had made a mistake, had totally humiliated herself as far as she was concerned, but there was no way she was going to let anyone see that. Certainly not Max. She had more pride than that.
Max thrust his hands into his denims pockets, the grimness of his expression not having eased in the slightest. ‘It was on the television, on the local news, that there was another attack late last night,’ he bit out tautly.
Her eyes widened. She hadn’t heard anything about that. But then, she didn’t have time to watch television in the day, and it was too early for March to have returned from work with any local gossip.
‘And?’ she prompted hardly.
He swallowed hard, grimacing. ‘They are being particularly cagey about this one, not giving out any names, or other details, just that the latest victim had been badly beaten but was recovering in hospital.’
January glared her impatience. ‘And?’ Really, why didn’t he just say what he had come here to say—and then leave? ‘I’m really sorry there’s been another attack, hope that the woman will be okay, but if you’ve come here to discuss buying the farm—’
‘I haven’t come here for that!’ he cut in harshly, a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw.
She gave a puzzled shake of her head. ‘Then why are you here?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ he snapped frustratedly.
Not to her, no. He had made it clear on Sunday evening—painfully clear, she recalled with an inner wince—that other than wanting to buy the farm he had no personal interest in her than as a possible casual bed-partner. A role she had made clear was completely unacceptable to her.
‘I’m afraid not.’ She gave a puzzled shake of her head.
Max gave a sigh of impatience. ‘Haven’t you been listening to a word I said?’
She gave a humourless smile. ‘When usually most people hang on your every word?’
He scowled darkly. ‘January, I’m more than aware of your opinion of me—’
‘I doubt that very much!’ she scorned; he couldn’t possibly know how angry she still was. With him. But more so with herself.
She had been so careful after the mistake she had made the previous year, been friendly but distant to any man who might have shown an interest in her, hadn’t even been out on a date since Ben had let her down so badly—only to end up making a complete idiot of herself over a man who was ten times more dangerous—to her heart!—than Ben had ever been!
Max gave the ghost of a smile. ‘Oh, I think I am. But I heard that radio announcement and I— Where are March and May?’
‘March is at work and May is at the dentist,’ she dismissed.
He nodded grimly at this explanation for her sisters’ absence.
‘Obviously I made a mistake,’ he dismissed hardly, preparing to leave.
January looked at him frowningly as he began to walk back to his car. He was arrogant. Hateful. Had hurt her pretty badly on Sunday evening. But the things he had said just now… Could he possibly—? Had he come here because—?
‘Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?’ she heard herself offer abruptly.
Max turned slowly back to look at her, his expression once again wary. ‘In the circumstances, that’s very kind of you,’ he finally murmured slowly.
She gave a shrug. ‘Didn’t you know—? I’m a kind person!’ she attempted to dismiss lightly.
Whereas, in reality, she had no idea why she had offered him a cup of coffee. It certainly wasn’t because she wanted to spend any time in his company; she usually came off worst in any encounter the two of them had, verbal or otherwise!
Then why had she made the offer? Perhaps because she suspected, from the things Max had said, that he had come here because he had thought it was either her, or one of her sisters, who had been attacked the previous night. And if that were the case…
‘The offer is only open for another ten seconds, Max,’ she told him derisively. ‘My toes are starting to freeze standing here!’ she added with a rueful glance down at her feet.
Max looked down, too, the frown clearing from his brow. ‘You really were serious about the bare feet, weren’t you?’ he murmured incredulously as he followed her into the kitchen, closing the door—and the extreme cold—behind him.
January glanced back from placing the kettle on the Aga. ‘I don’t tell lies, either, Max,’ she told him huskily.