His chest tightened as he watched her talk on the phone. She was visibly angry and with good reason. When Robyn turned around and saw him, she froze.
Maxwell had changed into a pair of sexy jeans and a white button-up shirt; only it wasn’t buttoned up. It was open, exposing a dusting of blonde hair on his chiseled chest and washboard abs.
Robyn shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. She mentally noted that she deserved the gold medal for being the dumbest and most foolish woman on the planet. She’d officially crossed over to being that stupid woman.
His voice was gruff. “It looks like we might be stuck here for a while.”
Robyn narrowed her eyes. “Like hell.”
Chapter 12
Robyn hopped on one foot as she put on her shoe. Then mimicked the same action as she put on the other. “I just need to get my keys.”
Maxwell rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t let you go out in this weather.”
“Let me? That’s funny.”
“I’m not laughing.”
She was exasperated and confused. “Why do you care, Maxwell? You accomplished everything you set out to do, remember?” Her throat grew thick, but she would be damned if she showed any signs of weakness.
“You’re on my property. I’m responsible for you.”
She scoffed at that. “I’m responsible for myself.”
Maxwell was frustrated too. “I see you’ll still cut off your nose to spite your face. Look at you . . .” He held one of his hands out at her. “There was a blizzard last night and at least twenty-four to thirty inches of snow on the ground. You’re wearing a few scraps of material that are meant to be sexy, not keep you warm, and you’re ready to walk out that door because you’re angry with me.”
Robyn raised her chin. “Yes. I. Am. Angry doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling. It’s more like murderous rage.”
“Then, by all means, go. It’s a new house. I’d hate to make it a crime scene.” He stood back and folded his arms across his chest and watched.
Robyn snatched her keys off the table and turned on her heels toward the door. She took a deep breath and opened it. Nothing could prepare her for the biting wind, or the snow that blew into the house and all over her. After no less than twenty seconds, Robyn slammed the door shut. She did not want to turn around to see the smug look on Maxwell’s face. Her back was still turned to him as she squeezed her eyes shut then silently cursed under her breath.
Maxwell swallowed as he took in the sight of her. Robyn still had a way of making his heart beat out of his chest. The wind had blown her hair all over the place, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, and she was pissed. She could look like a hobo on the street and Robyn would still keep him in a heightened state of arousal, and it wasn’t just physical. It was just her. After all this time, it pissed him off.
He needed a distraction. Anything to keep his mind off stripping Robyn naked and carrying her back upstairs to bed. “I’ll call someone about the roads after I have some coffee. If you want some, you know where the kitchen is.”
Maxwell had to walk away. Inwardly, he cursed the gods. What the hell? He’d made some mistakes before, but this one might be the biggest. Maxwell entered the kitchen and found the coffee maker. He got it started, and a few moments later, the aroma of freshly roasted coffee floated through the air.
Damn. There was no escape. Maxwell could see her in his peripheral as Robyn appeared in the doorway.
He didn’t say a word. She didn’t either. Silently and still pissed, she sat down at the table. While the coffee finished brewing, Maxwell went to the refrigerator and pulled out things to make a couple of omelets. He turned on the stove and, in no time, had prepared them.
The tension between them was thick.
Robyn refused to look at him.
He let out an exaggerated sigh. “If we have to be stuck here, it might be better if we clear the air.”
“This is a big house. I’m sure we can figure out a way to ignore each other after I get a cup of coffee. I’m only here because I need the caffeine.” Robyn didn’t know why she’d followed Maxwell.
“Yet, here you are in my kitchen.”
“Because I need coffee.” Why the hell was she in his kitchen? Maybe she needed some honest answers from him too.
He brought the plate of food over to her along with a steaming hot cup. “Two creams and two sugars, right?”
“What?” That caused her chestnut brown eyes to look up at him in surprise. “You remembered that?”
“Two creams, two sugars, and ham and cheese omelets are your favorite. You hate onions—yes, I remember. I figured breakfast and coffee would earn
