What she needed was time. Time to think this through rationally.
So after she left his bedroom for the last time, she’d avoided him for the rest of the afternoon, spending time in the water. When she’d come back, Max and Alya had returned from the final shoot. Soon they would leave Green Island behind. This would all make more sense when real life resumed on Monday.
Natasha unplugged her phone and looked at it for the first time since she had arrived. Sixteen missed calls from Wayne. Sixteen messages. Natasha raised an eyebrow. An unprecedented effort by him. A few days ago, she might have called him back. But right now, she didn’t even care. All she could think about was Max. She shoved her phone into the side pocket of her bag and grabbed another handful of clothes.
Natasha didn’t hear Max enter, but all at once she felt him there, behind her. She turned around slowly. The scruff, the board shorts, the tousled blond hair—that Max was gone. In his place was the clean-shaven man, dressed in black, all hard muscles and intense gaze. His blue eyes were dark and stormy, and tension radiated in his every move. His jaw ticked as he stared down at her.
“I need to pack, Max,” she said, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.
Of course, he didn’t. He just stared down at her.
“I knew this could hurt you, and I still did it.”
“You knew it could hurt me? Not you?”
He looked annoyed. “You’re missing the point. This isn’t about whether or notIget hurt.”
“Of course it’s not,” she said lightly. “You’re Max Jensen, the most easygoing bachelor in the whole country. You’d just let it roll off you and move on.”
For a moment, the hurt on his face was so raw that she felt sick to her stomach. Oh, God, what was she doing? Hurting him intentionally? Even as she spoke these words, she’d known they weren’t true. He just acted like everything rolled off him, and she was using it against him. This whole conversation was a bad idea.
Natasha took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean that, Max. I know it’s not true, and I’m sorry. I think we should end this conversation before I say anything else I regret.”
She turned away, back to her suitcase, but Max didn’t leave. He came closer, squatting down beside her. His breaths rang in her ears, and his scent was everywhere. She closed her eyes, unable to stop the want flooding through her. God, she would probably never get over this man. No more events with Alya. She’d have to just keep her distance.
His warm hand glided over her bare arm, and she braced herself against the bolt of desire that coursed through her. He must have felt her reaction because he let go.
“Shit,” he muttered. She opened her eyes, and he was so close, his face twisted with frustration. Her heart squeezed in her chest.
He held up his hands. “Please, let me finish.” Heat flared in his gaze, and his voice lowered as he spoke these last words.
Natasha bit her lip, nodded and his gaze jumped down to her mouth and stayed there for an extra beat. When his eyes met hers again, the flames burst higher.
The tidal wave of emotions was building in her, the feelings that weren’t supposed to come with a quick fling. After spending years constructing her life to avoid her mother’s path, somehow she had ended up here anyway.
“I know how you feel about who I am and what it means to be a Jensen, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting you anyway,” he said, his voice low.
She blinked up at him, too stunned to get words out. That was how he saw their situation? Red warning lights were flashing in her brain. She squeezed her eyes shut, resisting the overpowering urge to do something stupid and rash, searching for other reasons that they could never be more than a fling. “It’s not just that. I’ve seen how you feel about monogamy.”
Max winced. He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. Then he leaned closer, so they were almost touching.
“Let’s make this clear. I have no problem with monogamy,” he said, his voice low. “I just don’t see the point unless it’s someone I’m serious about.”
“You’re looking for someone serious but you’re sleeping around?” she asked, not bothering to hide her incredulity. “Hmm...”
He gritted his teeth. “I’m thinking that I’ve found someone I could be serious about. But she doesn’t want me, exactly as I am.”
That was a direct hit, and the words shook the foundation of her entire adult life. It was the truth, and spoken so plainly, it sounded awful. When she distilled all her hesitations, she didn’t want him because she was afraid of his high-profile position, something he was born into, something he didn’t control. And he knew it. Yeah, he slept around, but the same prying eyes would have torn into his life even if he didn’t—Alya’s own battle with the media during her career had taught her that much. Natasha sucked in a shaky breath as he brought his hand to her cheek.
“What would you have preferred, Natasha?” he asked quietly. “I expressed my interest three years ago, and you didn’t want anything to do with me. Were you expecting celibacy?”
She shook her head slowly. She hadn’t exactly been celibate, either. But the larger question was this: Could she really put herself out there, take a chance on a connection forged through a few days of sexcapades? That chance had to be carefully weighed against the very high probability she’d be analyzed, scrutinized, and she knew exactly where that would lead.
“I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore,” she said quietly. “Sneaking around for more sex until we get caught? Dating?”
He stroked her cheek but didn’t answer.
“I was the ugly duckling sister,” she said. How did those words still have the power to hurt her? This was the last thing she wanted to talk about, but it was better that Max understood.
“Thirteen is a tough age to see that in print. And I had a mother who agonized over everything that was written about her, so, of course, I believed it mattered. As did most of the kids I went to school with.” Natasha swallowed, pushing herself to continue. “At first, I tried to hide myself, and then I tried to fix myself, to be someone different. Even when I finally decided that I wasn’t going to care anymore, sometimes I still found myself wondering, do people still see me as the ugly duckling?”
She had told this story to Wayne, too, but saying it to Max, the man who made her feel both beautiful and vulnerable, was different. Harder.
“Coming to Australia wasn’t just good for Alya. It was a fresh start for me, too. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I arrived.” Natasha straightened up. “I can’t go through that again, Max. Even if I’m not an ugly duckling anymore, the media always finds something.”
She took a deep breath and looked at him. Hurt was etched into his beautiful features, and there was so much worry and fear in his eyes. Still, he said nothing. His touch was gentle, and his gaze never left her.
“Max and Nat?” Alya’s voice came from the front door. “It’s time to go. We have to catch the boat.”
The tension in the room shifted instantly. This was really coming to an end. Max got to his feet. His eyes met hers for one last moment before he turned and walked out the door.
