Free The Millionaire Tempted Fate (A Novella) (Sweet and Savory Romances) by Shirley Jump Page A

with Angie curled into a warm, naked ball beside him. Sunlight washed her body with gold, danced light in her hair, the dark tendrils spread across the pillow in a dark tangle, just as he’d pictured it in his fantasy a few days ago. His first thought was how could he get so lucky to have a woman like her in his life?
    His second thought? How could he be such an idiot to screw up his relationship with her?
    Already, he wanted her again. Even after making love to her twice last night—okay, the first time was sex, the second time, slower, longer, definitely making love—his body wanted more. He reached out toward her, then drew his hand back.
    This was Angie. His best friend. What had his father always told him? Never muddy the sheets where you sleep. When he was sober, Max’s father was given to long lectures about things like keeping business and pleasure separate, about being smart in every decision, an irony that seemed to escape the elder Blackwell when he mixed himself a martini.
    Maybe Max’s father had sought out the drinks because his life was more of a slow death. His parents had been friends who married, and after the first blush of the wedding faded, they’d found themselves locked in a relationship devoid of passion. They’d been roommates, people who exchanged pleasant conversation over the newspaper each morning. There’d been no fights, no raised voices. Nothing but this quiet, dull existence that laid a suffocating pall over the house. His mother had spent every spare minute cleaning while his father poured himself into work. And when his father drank, Max’s mother sat to the side, her lips pursed in disapproval. Max often wondered if that’s where all that unspent, unanswered passion went—to the sterile worlds of work and home they could control.
    Max slid out of her bed, and padded out to the living room to retrieve his clothes. Chewie danced at Max’s feet, eager to eat, go out and play all at the same time. Max threw on some clothes, took the dog for a quick walk, then headed inside to feed him. Angie was still sleeping, and Max debated waking her or just slipping out the door. Yeah, it was the coward’s way out, but he didn’t know how to tell her the truth.
    That if he so much as looked at her right now, he’d be back in that bed with her, and whatever friendship they had left would be a casualty to his inability to control his desires. Far smarter to marry Becky, and not get swept up in a bonfire that would destroy everything that mattered to him.
    "Were you planning to say goodbye?"
    He started to reach for his coat, but Angie’s voice drew him up short. He jerked away from his jacket and spun around. She stood in the doorway, a short pink robe tied around her body, her hair rumpled and sexy. "I thought it was best."
    "God, when did you turn into such a jerk?" Hurt echoed in her voice, like a knife to Max’s heart.
    Better for her to think he was a jerk than for him to tell her how much he wanted to stay, how hard it was for him to grab his coat, how impossible it was to look in her eyes and say what he needed to say. "I’m marrying Becky, Angie. We can still be friends but—"
    "You are such a coward." She advanced on him, her hands on her hips, her green eyes flaring. "You and I both know that something fundamental changed here last night, and instead of dealing with it, you’re running away."
    "I’m saving you from heartbreak."
    "Bullshit."
    He pivoted back to her, the fire of want roaring in his gut—coupled with frustration that Angie just didn’t get what he was trying to say—rushed to the surface, colored his words. "You think I don’t want you? You think I don’t want to go back to that bedroom right now, with you, and stay there for a week? Hell, a month? I want you, Angie, I want you in ways I’ve never wanted anyone or anything."
    The truth poured out of him, an unstoppable river that he’d held back for too long. He’d denied it, pretended he wasn’t attracted