Free Dream Lover by Nicola Peterson Page A

brought out the blue of his eyes the soft material showed off the contours of his chest and muscles in his arms when he moved, and if it were possible he looked even more handsome than ever.
    They both looked each other over for a moment until he gave a short laugh, ‘What?’ he asked, while thinking she was the most beautiful woman he had met.
    ‘You, you look different. I’ve only seen you in a suit,’ she smiled.
    He looked down at her through half closed lids, ‘And naked,’ he drawled with a devastatingly lazy smile.
    ‘You had your shorts on,’ she had started to turn away only to be stopped by his warm hand on her arm.
    ‘And you’re quite sure about that?’ he asked looking straight into her golden eyes.
    ‘Yes quite sure, they were blue,’ she told him without hesitating.
    She could remember the colour of the shorts he was wearing the day she walked into his office yet she didn’t remember seeing him naked. He knew then without a doubt she didn’t remember him making love to her, how could she forget? A sudden feeling of disappointment washed over him, she certainly acted as though she was enjoying his love making, and he had certainly enjoyed making love to her. For the first time since he was an awkward teenager he was not sure how to handle the situation.
    ‘Quinn,’ she looked up into his eyes again, ‘would you do me one, no two small favours, leave your hair loose and call me Max.’ He slid the bow from her hair and dropped it onto the dresser then wrapping his arm around her shoulders he pulled her from the room.
    ‘Call me Max ,’ he asked, no one dared call him, ‘ Max .’ She didn’t trust herself to look at him as they walked through the hotel and out into the warm Paris evening.
    Quinn remembered vividly the last person who dared to call him Max. They had been at a conference when a slightly overbearing director from one of the other companies attending called him Max as they sat down to dinner. He was quickly put right. ‘My name is Maxwell or Mr Cordell, I’d prefer you call me Mr Cordell,’ he informed the other man without as much as batting an eyelid.
    Strolling along with him now she wondered just how she had moved so quickly from calling him ‘mister’ to Max in one smooth step.
    For the first few minutes Quinn’s head was in a spin, she could still feel the pressure of his hand against her shoulder, feel his fingers running through her hair, and she suddenly realised she was seeing a different side to Maxwell Cordell.
    Maxwell was pointing out different landmarks to her, if he noticed she didn’t respond any further than to nod he didn’t comment. Eventually he asked if she would like to go into a bar which overlooked the River for a drink.
    ‘Yes I could do with a coffee,’ she replied while thinking she could do with something stronger.
    Maxwell stood aside for her to enter ahead of him, but instead of ordering coffee he ordered two glasses of white wine.
    At first Quinn had been about to refuse but after one sip of the deliciously cold liquid she was pleased she hadn’t.
    Eventually Quinn relaxed and soon found she was drawn in to an easy friendly conversation with her boss, nothing too personal at first about his company then about travelling and holidays. And before too long they were chatting and laughing as easily as though they were friends, lovers even, certainly not the tyrannical employer and his over worked employee.
    When they finished their wine they continued on their stroll, the evening was warm with just the gentlest of breezes.
    ‘There is a really nice restaurant not far along, the food is excellent,’ Maxwell looked down at her while he spoke, then reached out with one hand and gently brushed away a strand of hair as the breeze blew it across her cheek.
    Quinn stood very still while his fingers gently brushed against her skin, the moment he moved she took a step back, this was definitely a new side to Maxwell she had not seen before. A small