Their Million-Dollar Night (13 page)

“You're right. I'll deal with MacNeil later. In the meantime make an offer to Trans/Time Travel. They are MacNeil's chief competition, right?”

“I'll pull together the numbers and information we have. But we don't have to move on the travel company acquisition until you're back from your honeymoon.”

“Are you managing me, Merchon?” he asked, because though the two men were friends, Duke had never told him what to do in his personal life before.

“Yes, Williams, I am. Enjoy your new wife and forget about business for a while.”

“I don't think I'm going to be able to do that until I take care of the newspaper people and MacNeil.”

“Pryce Enterprises has already sent a letter and wedding photo from yesterday's event. I personally sent a letter expressing my outrage.”

“You were outraged. I'm touched.”

“Yeah, well, I don't have many friends, you know that. When they strike at you, they strike at me, too.”

Max was a little humbled by Duke's words. “Thanks, man.”

“I think I owed you.”

“No you didn't. Touch base with MacNeil later, will you?”

“No problem,” Duke said, before disconnecting the phone.

Max rubbed the back of his neck, hoping that MacNeil hadn't said anything to Roxy about the photo the paper had run. Harron and Sheila were staying in the Chimera for a few days gambling. She might not want to be reminded of a career she no longer had.

He entered the restaurant—and saw Roxy talking to Harron. Anger began a slow burn in his gut as he crossed to the corner table where they were sitting. Roxy had her back to him, but he could see that she was sincere in her words.

“Max actually cares for his workers and treats his employees the way he does his friends,” Roxy said.

He was humbled to hear her defending him. She'd come to his rescue, even though he'd let her down. Taken what she had to offer but been unwilling to give her what she really needed in return. Not gifts or money or a new career, but love. Even though she'd walked out his door last night, here she was defending him.

The press had portrayed her in a bad light, but she wasn't slinking away from Harron in embarrassment or regret. She put her hands on the table and leaned forward.

“You should be happy to merge with Pryce Enterprises because Max is the kind of man who never rests on what he's accomplished. He's going to take your number-three travel company and make it number one. I know the fact that I was a Las Vegas showgirl doesn't sit well with you, Mr. MacNeil, but I'm willing to bet any profits you'd see from Pryce would go a long way to making you feel better.”

“There won't be any profits from Pryce,” Max said, crossing to Roxy and MacNeil.

“Now see here—”

“No, MacNeil, you see here. No one insults my wife.”

“I didn't mean those insults. I've got a quick fuse and this morning I was surprised by what I read in the paper.”

“So surprised that you had to track down my wife to confront me?”

“Yes. We spoke at length about the client base that MacNeil Travel draws from. We once lost ten percent of that base when Sheila's dance studio put on a show from Mikhail Baryshnikov's White Oak Dance Project. And that's a legitimate ballet. Can you imagine how this would affect business?”

“Maybe you don't want those people as your clients. Dance is an expression of emotion, Harron. I'm confident Sheila wasn't embarrassed by the ballet they did.”

Harron flushed. “No, she wasn't. And she wasn't too happy with me this morning when I got angry over Roxy's picture.”

“I'm not happy, either. Duke will be calling you this afternoon and we'll stop the merger.”

Harron started to leave but Roxy stopped him with her hand on his arm. “Wait. I think you two can work something out. You've both worked so hard on this.”

Max waited to see what Harron would say. Finally the older man nodded. “I'll talk to Duke this afternoon and we'll work the details out. You go enjoy your honeymoon.”

Harron left the restaurant. Roxy faced Max, and he didn't know how to thank her for what she'd done. Nor how to tell her how much she meant to him. He wanted to make sure she realized that Pryce Enterprises wasn't the most important thing in his life anymore…she was.

 

Max pulled her into his arms as soon as she was close enough. “I'm sorry.”

“For the picture? Don't worry about it.”

“No. I'm sorry I was too stubborn to tell you how I feel.”

“How do you feel?”

I love you.
The words were in his head but he couldn't force them out. Not now, not here.

“Did seeing it make you regret not dancing? If you decide you want to dance again…I can open an office here.”

“That's a sweet offer, but I think my headlining days are over.”

“What about your days with me? Are they over?”

He wrapped his arm around her and led her from the restaurant to the private bench in the maze where he'd first proposed to her. “I was surprised when I heard you defending me.”

“Why surprised?”

“I'm used to being the one who makes everything right.”

“Well, you've got me now.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, holding her closer. He kissed her, but now there was something more than passion in his embrace. He should have known when she turned him down the first time he asked her to marry him and he'd decided he had to have her that there was something more than comfort in his mind. Something more than sex and things in common.

She put her hand on his jaw and looked into his eyes. “No matter what happens between us, Max, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you.”

He squeezed her even tighter. “I love you, Roxy.”

Max's words were like magic wrapping around Roxy and clearing out the hurt that had lingered after Harron's callous words. She relaxed against him and remembered how little she'd had to like about her life just a few weeks earlier before he'd swept into her life and changed it.

Finally, she felt like she found the home she'd never had here in his arms.

“They got one thing right in the article,” Max said, picking it up and skimming it.

“What?”

“I did get lucky in Vegas.”

“At the tables?” she asked, teasing him.

“When I met you.”