Bedding the Wrong Brother(9)

Sniffing, she raised her hand. “Of course. Forgive me.”

His arms encircled her from behind. Resting his chin on her head, he just held her. As always, she felt protected in his arms. Sheltered. But there was no zing of desire. None of the heat or shivers that overtook her when Rhys was near. On the plus side, there was no feeling like a moron and running away, either.

Not that it would have made a difference if Max did make her hot. Both Max and Rhys were way out of her league, and neither had ever shown the slightest bit of interest in her anyway. Sure, Max had always flirted and teased. Told her to come see him when she wanted a real man. But she knew, as with everything else with him, it had all been a game.

Unfortunately for him, she was calling his bluff.

“If there were, uh, issues—” He cleared his throat. “They were his fault, Melina, not yours.”

She snorted and pulled away. “I wish that were true, but he's not the only boyfriend to tell me I don't know what I'm doing. And according to his new girlfriend, he's the bomb.”

He winced. “Please. Don't try to talk modern. It just doesn't work.”

“See what I mean?” she pouted. “I can't even talk sexy.”

“You don't need to talk sexy. Behind those god-awful glasses,” he tapped the top of her wire-rimmed glasses for emphasis “lab coats, and lumpy suits you wear, you are sexy. You just don't go around advertising it.”

“Right.”

“Melina,” he said warningly.

“I'm not putting myself down. I'm not beautiful and don't have the best body in the world, I'm attractive, I dress well—”

His snort was getting rather annoying now.

“—and I'm smart. That counts for something, right?”


“Melina—”

“I'm kind. Loyal. I think I'd make a good mother.”

Max's eyes bugged out. “Uh, Melina—”

She put her hands on her hips. “Oh, hush. I'm not asking you to father my child. And you don't have to look so relieved, either. But we both know I'm not a femme fatale. I don't want to be. I just want to get married. Have a family.” A big one. She wanted lots of children, not an only child who would grow up lonely and longing for the type of sibling relationship that Max had with Rhys. “I don't want to wither up and die surrounded by a bunch of bugs.” She dropped gracelessly onto her coach and leaned her head back against the cushion.

His expression grew suspicious. “Is this about your biological clock? Honey, you're still young. There's plenty of time for you to start a family.”

When she didn't answer, he dropped down next to her and took her hands. “I thought you liked your bugs,” Max said quietly. “Are you that unhappy? Why didn't you tell me?”

She shook her head. “I love my job, but I…but I want to be—” Her voice hitched. “I want to be loved. I want someone to love me.”

“Your parents love you. Rhys and I, we love you, Melina.”

“My parents and you, maybe. Rhys, I'm not so sure of anymore. And anyway, it's not enough. I want a partner.”

“But you're talking sex. Mechanics. Not love.”

“One leads to the other,” she insisted. “With guys, sex comes first, then emotion, right?”

He looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. “Well, I guess. To some—”

“To you, right?”

“But I'm not the one you want to make fall in love with you.” He said it hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure what her answer would be.

“No. But you'd certainly be demanding. In bed, I mean.”

He raked a hand though his golden hair. “Jesus, Melina—”

“I'm just saying…” she soothed.

“What's causing all this? You got your eye on someone specific?”

Her fingers plucked at the corded edge of one of the sofa cushions. Despite Lucy's fervent belief that she'd be settling with Jamie, there was something about the man that called to her. A sort of offbeat humor. A serious stare that pierced you and made you wonder what he was thinking. And whether he was thinking about you. The way Rhys's stare did. But unlike Rhys, he'd expressed interest in her. Asked her out for drinks after the conference next weekend. And she wasn't going to mess up her opportunity with him.