Their Million-Dollar Night by Katherine Garbera Page B

glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was almost ten. She’d slept the entire night in his arms. This morning she was determined to face what she’d put off last night.
    She got out of bed and put on her robe, walking into the other room where Max was on the phone at his laptop computer. He smiled when she entered, reached for the carafe of coffee and poured her a cup. She added cream and then sat down on the settee that faced the windows overlooking the city.
    This was his world. She’d glimpsed it more than once. He worked all the time, his job was demanding…it was his life.
    She’d expected to feel different this morning. Somehow, her outlook should have changed in a significant way. But aside from some aches from having had sex for the first time in a year, she didn’t feel unusual.
    He finished his call and came over to her. Bending, he kissed her and then sat down next to her.
    â€œThanks for the coffee,” she said, feeling shy and a bit unsure. She had nothing to wear but last night’s dress; she’d bared her soul to this man last night. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to realize how much of herself he’d seen.
    â€œI would have had breakfast for you, too, but Hayden didn’t know what you liked to eat. I’ll order that now.”
    â€œWhy would Hayden know that?” she asked, sensing there was more to this than breakfast. She’d noticed how Max liked every detail to be perfect. Why?
    Max put his arm along the back of the couch and drew her closer to his side. “I know my employees’ preferences.”
    â€œAll of them?” she asked, because from what she understood he ran a huge conglomerate.
    He squeezed her tight. “No, smarty, not personally, but I have a file and my secretary accesses the information when I need it.”
    She was amazed at the amount of detail that implied. Why did Max do that? She tipped her head back to study him more carefully. She sensed there was something underlying here. What was she missing? “Why would you keep a file like that?”
    â€œPeople like it when you remember little things about them.”
    Details were the things most easy to forget, Roxy thought. She knew that because, in the group home she’d lived in as a teen, she’d been one of three blond girls. No one had bothered to remember any of their names, just called them all “blond-girl.” A name was an important detail, and she’d made sure as an adult that everyone remembered hers. But Max was goingbeyond that. He was remembering things that sometimes even spouses and parents didn’t know.
    â€œWhat are the details about you? What are the things that make you happy?” she asked, hoping he’d reach out and show her some part of himself that no one else knew.
    â€œThat’s not important. What do you like for breakfast?”
    She sighed. Max wasn’t going to reveal anything intimate to her. She’d bared her body to this man and he wanted to know what she liked for breakfast. When was she going to learn? “I like toast with blackberry jelly and coffee.”
    â€œThat’s not breakfast. That’s what you eat when you’re in a hurry.”
    He wasn’t going to let this go. There was more to this than breakfast. From growing up in the system, she knew that everyone, no matter how normal they seemed, had some kind of issue to deal with. This need for facts was Max’s way of building a relationship.
    â€œWhy are you looking at me like that?”
    â€œI’m trying to figure out what makes you tick.”
    â€œWhat you see is what you get. Tell me about you and breakfast.”
    â€œWhat’s to tell? I’ve never had a leisurely breakfast. Mornings aren’t really a time to hang out for show dancers.” When she was younger, she’d spent all of her time at the dance studio before and afterschool. Food had just never seemed that important,