“Ordinarily women find me quite irresistible, I can assure you,” he continued.
“Of that I have no doubt,” she said tartly, then realized she might have given herself away.
“Indeed.”
“Silly girls,” she said, in an effort to disguise her slip. “To succumb to such obvious charm and good looks.”
His lips twitched. “You prefer men who are less obviously handsome?”
She eyed him, trying to determine if he was toying with her or if he was completely serious. His sharp blue eyes revealed nothing.
“You seem to be quite immune to my charms,” he continued.
The truth was, she was not immune to his charms at all, quite the contrary. She found herself utterly drawn to him. Shamelessly so. But she would be damned if she would let him know any of that.
Maxwell Barrett was used to getting his way with women. He was the sort of man who could make you forget what you were about to say, forget why you’d walked into a room, forget your own name. Precisely the sort of man she’d love to have an affair with, but there was something about Max that gave her pause. Could she indulge, and make certain her heart remained untouched? She knew Max was not a man who would easily fall in love. But neither did she.
“Your charms, as it were, have nothing to do with this journey,” she said, then looked out the window.
He was only charming with the intent to disarm her. To try to manipulate the truth out of her. It was further proof that last night she’d been a fool to believe she could trust him.
A woman with a refreshment tray stepped into their car. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but here is the tray you requested.” The woman placed the tray on the empty seat next to him, then left the car.
Max handed Sabine a glass of wine. “Would you care for some cheese or bread with that?” he asked her.
“Not now,” she said.
“Your aunt sent me to protect you,” he said.
“Calliope talks too much.”
He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. His nearness allowed her a whiff of his scent. This morning, she found no hint of brandy or tobacco. Instead, she inhaled sandalwood, masculinity, and pure seduction. Her nose twitched.
“Tell me about the elixir,” he said.
His curiosity tugged at her. Atlanteans were raised to hold their country and their ways in great esteem, despite the loss of their actual land. To meet someone who had an interest in her people, well, it thrilled some small part of her. Surely most Atlanteans had shared a tale, a time or two. How else would the English and other people know of them?
She could be vague and give just enough to appease him without revealing anything dangerous. There was no need to tell him how a guardian’s amphora never ran dry. A never-ending supply of elixir could tempt even the most noble of persons. And to make matters worse, she had already used some on him to heal his gunshot wound. He’d seen the powers at work. No, she would merely give him the basics, what he could find in a history book from Atlantis, if any of them had survived.
“It is said to be from the waters of Atlantis,” she said.
He leaned back again, putting his legs out in front of him. They were so close that she could have reached down and brushed her fingertips across the top of his shin.
“What is it supposed to do?” he asked.
“It acts as an enhancer.” She met his gaze, carefully selecting her words before she spoke. “For example, it would make Galileo more intelligent. And Oscar Wilde more”—she paused, searching for the right word— “eccentric. So I suppose for you, it would make you even more charming.” She did nothing to hide the sarcasm from her voice.
“And likewise, it would no doubt enhance your sharp wit.” He nodded with a smile.
She laughed. She could not help herself.
“You should laugh more often,” he said. “Life is intended to be enjoyed.”
“Life isn’t always amusing,” she countered, then took a sip of her wine.
“Touché,” he said.
She fingered the chain around her neck. The vial was hidden beneath her dress and rested safely against her body.