But was it possible they could stay in contact? Perhaps text once in a while?
Tyler pinned his gaze on Max, clearly waiting for a response to his demand.
Max steeled his shoulders. “While I appreciate your concern for your sister, I do not make a practice of letting others dictate how I handle my friendships.”
“Friendship?” Tyler snorted. “From what I’ve seen, this thing goes beyond friendship.”
“Ty, that’s enough.” Emberly’s voice held exasperation.
“Truthfully,this thingis not your concern.” Max had already experienced such interference once in his life with Ava, and he refused to allow it to happen again.
Tyler took a step back, then nodded at the beautiful home on the hill, the one where the McQuaid family lived. “Dad wants to see you.”
Emberly shook her head. “Tell him I’ll stop by later.”
“He wants to see both you and Max.” Tyler’s voice sounded ominous.
Emberly hesitated.
“I am happy to do so.” Max had not yet met the head of the family, and he was not afraid of an encounter. He had no doubt T.W. McQuaid had been kept apprised of his and Emberly’s doings over the week. Did T.W. wish to scold him for spending so much time with Emberly? If so, why bother now that his visit was almost over?
“You don’t have to, Max.” Emberly pinched the bridge of her nose. He’d noticed she did so when she was in a stressful situation. Was she resistant to taking him to see her father? Was that stressful to her?
“If you prefer that I not meet your father, then I shall accept your decision.”
“No, that’s not it at all,” she replied quickly. “I just don’t want you to feel the pressure.”
“Have no worry on my account. I am not afraid to meet your father.”
She studied his face and then nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I am certain.”
Max drew in a steadying breath. He was in charge of his relationships, and if—and that was onlyif—he wanted to pursue something with Emberly, he would not let Tyler or her father interfere. He would not even let his own father stop him.
Of course, Max had never concerned himself with choosing a wife who would please his father. But after his father’s role in shunning Ava, Max was even less inclined. In fact, for a while during those days when he had been reeling with the pain of losing Ava, he had contemplated selecting someone his father did not approve of simply to serve his comeuppance.
Max no longer had the burning need for revenge. But what would his father say if he became engaged to Emberly? Not only was she a commoner, but she was a simple American without any fame or fortune. While that didn’t bother Max in the least, what would his father think about a gun-shooting, lasso-throwing cowgirl becoming queen of their nation?
Max almost smiled at how an engagement to Emberly would surprise his father. Perhaps his father would regret not letting him marry Ava, who, although not royalty, at least lived in his country, spoke the language, and was familiar with royal ways.
Yes, a woman such as Emberly would likely be a thorn in his father’s flesh. And no doubt he would discourage the union, perhaps try to prevent it.
No, if Max were ever to seriously contemplate such a wild plan, he would have to take drastic measures to ensure the union occurred. Most likely he would need to elope.
Elope?
Max almost scoffed aloud. What was wrong with him? His thoughts were entirely out of line. He was quite possibly losing his mind. Just because his feelings toward Emberly were heightened, it did not warrant his fantasizing about marrying her. He’d probably only done so because he was growing more desperate with the looming deadline of his birthday.
He would not actually consider a permanent union with Emberly. More importantly, she would never consider a union with him. If he even hinted at it, she would laugh in his face.
Truly, he was mad for even thinking about it, and he would be better off putting such far-fetched notions from his mind.
10
Emberly was more than a little irritated again at her family’s interference. But as she stepped into the great room with Max, she tamped down the frustration.
“There’s my girl!” Dad called from his recliner near the wall of windows and sliding glass doors. The lamp on the barrel-style end table cast a soft glow over him, taking away some of the pallor and haggardness that had been plaguing him for months.
