Over a candlelit table draped in crisp linen, I studied Max across the flickering glow of the taper candles. The bistro's intimate lighting cast dancing shadows across the chiseled planes of his face, somehow heightening his already imposing presence.

Yet despite the romance novel ambiance, there was nothing overtly seductive about Max's manner. He regarded me with that steady, inscrutable gaze that had issued me a thousand subtle rebukes in the office. As if he could no more turn off his natural reserve than I could pretend this farcical evening held any deeper meaning.

Still, I felt compelled to prod at him – this enigmatic man whose closest truths remained so tantalizingly obscured.

"So is this the part where you regale me with tales of your dashing life of intrigue?" I asked lightly, gesturing around the ultrachic yet distinctly Parisian-themed surroundings. "The dark secrets behind your remarkable success? The lurid dalliances with European debutantes?"

Max's mouth curved faintly at that. "I'm afraid my life makes for decidedly unromantic storytelling, Ms. Bennett. But perhaps you'd permit me to indulge in a brief moment of asking the questions?"

I felt my defenses instinctively rise at the prospect of him prying into my personal affairs. I may have caught an unguarded glimpse of Max's history tonight, but that wasn't an open invitation for scrutiny. I forced an airy laugh.

"Getting a bit too into character, aren't we? I'm pretty sure it's the dashing hero who's meant to dole out cryptic revelations. While the hapless ingénue just smiles and looks pretty."

That infuriatingly perceptive gaze saw right through my deflection. "On the contrary," he murmured in that devastating timbre that sparked goosebumps along my arms. "Isn't the heroine's role to gradually unmask the brooding rake through her endless reserves of compassion and...tenacity?"

His slight emphasis on the last word made the breath stall in my lungs. Did he truly see me that way - a relentless force chipping away at his fortified walls? The thought was at once thrilling and utterly ludicrous.

Still, I rallied my trademark brashness in the face of such unnerving insights. "Well, then I suppose that makes you the smolderingly wounded hero in need of redemption," I countered.

Holding his gaze, I trailed my fingertip along the rim of my wineglass in a subconscious gesture. "Do tell me, Mr. Pemberton—what haunts a man like you beneath all that dashing bravado? What secrets lurk behind that steady mask?"

Our lighthearted banter shifted, the atmosphere charging with an electric undercurrent that raised the fine hairs on my nape. Max's watchful silence stretched taut between us as that piercing stare bored into me with unsettling intensity.

Just when I thought he wouldn't answer, his deep voice sliced through the bristling tension. "I'm afraid my...mask would prove rather disappointing beneath the surface, Ms. Bennett. There are no sordid tales of betrayal or anguished pasts to unearth. My life's shadows consist of little more than...contentious business acquisitions and decision paralysis."

His wry delivery contradicted the glimmer of something somber flickering in his gaze as he spoke. But before I could call him on that flicker of vulnerability, he continued in a more customary tone of distant reserve.

"But enough about me. I'm far more intrigued by your own remarkable trajectory from...is it Oregon?" One dark brow arched in polite inquiry. "To a prestigious executive assistant position in the heart of Manhattan's elite business society."

The reminder of my humble roots twisted my stomach into a sudden knot of discomfort. I shifted in my seat, abruptly regretting Max's formidable attention toward my personal life.

He seemed to sense my unease, for his expression softened by a fraction. "You'll have to forgive my audacity in prying where I shouldn't, Ms. Bennett. I merely thought to—"

"It's fine," I interrupted, forcing myself to meet that too-discerning gaze levelly. If Max wanted to go probing into the shadows of my past, then so be it. I had nothing to be ashamed of.

Squaring my shoulders, I regarded him steadily over the table's gleaming surface. "You're right—I'm from Oregon originally. Just a small, nothing town that became...stifling after a while."

My mother's battle with cancer and subsequent passing. My father's heartbreaking decline into Alzheimer's. My failed engagement. Brad and Marissa's betrayal. Memories of loss and loneliness welled up, stinging the backs of my eyes.

Inhaling deeply, I willed away the melancholy before continuing in a voice of studied neutrality. "I got into an East Coast college on a scholarship, and I decided to take a chance on reinventing myself as far from home as possible."

A reckless brittleness crept into my tone. "No more tragic backstories to entertain, I'm afraid. That's about as pedestrian an origin story as they come."

The weight of Max's steady regard was nearly suffocating. I fought the urge to squirm beneath his searching stare, cursing myself for willingly inviting his scrutiny through our careless flirtatious banter.

At last he spoke, his voice soft but slicing straight through my overwrought defenses. "We both know that's not the truth, Charlotte."

My breath hitched at the low provocation in his tone and the unexpected use of my name. The fine hairs prickled along my nape as Max's gaze remained steadily anchored to mine.

"Dismissed as 'pedestrian' your past may be," he continued in that same quiet timbre. "But its unrelenting presence in your life is glaringly obvious to anyone who looks beyond the surface."

My cheeks flamed hot with mingled humiliation and anger. How dared this arrogant, callous man presume to know anything about me? About the losses and struggles that forged the steel in my spine?

I opened my mouth to protest, but Max raised one hand in a placating gesture. "You don't owe me anything, Charlotte. Least of all the innermost truths you keep so fiercely guarded." A glimmer of something placid yet infinitely sad flickered across his striking features. "We're all entitled to our armors and defenses against this world's relentless cruelties."

The plaintive sincerity in his tone disarmed me more swiftly and completely than any verbal sparring. My throat worked as I struggled to formulate a response, feeling obscurely as though he'd just handled me with surprising gentleness.

Before I could sort through the warring impulses, Max seemed to mentally shake himself. That impassive masculine mask was firmly back in place as he leveled me with an unflinchingly astute look.

"In any case, I've no doubt your tenacity will ensure you rise above any past...pedestrian circumstances." His assessing gaze swept over me in a scorching caress. "You are an entity unto yourself, Ms. Bennett. Anyone with eyes can see that."

The low timbre of those words raised tingles along my skin. I found myself unable to muster my usual brash retort beneath the weight of Max's steady regard.

Just as quickly, his mood seemed to shift with characteristic unpredictability. He looked suddenly discomfited, like a man who'd inadvertently exposed more of himself than intended. Leaning back in his chair, Max cleared his throat and gestured vaguely toward the room's shadows.

"Speaking of rising above circumstances...I don't believe I've seen any singing French mimes lurking about yet this evening? You're slacking on your signature romantic grandeurs, Ms. Bennett."

His teasing lilt was a transparent attempt to steer us back toward more comfortable waters. And despite my bewilderment over his mercurial reserve, I instinctively grasped at the buoy of our casual rapport.

Arching one brow archly, I brushed off his attempt to rattle me. "Oh, ye of little faith, Mr. Pemberton. The evening is still young." My lips curved into a wicked grin. "Just you wait and see what grander romantic feats I have up my very secluded sleeve!"

Those striking emerald eyes glittered with a mixture of challenge and unmistakable masculine interest as they slowly swept over me.

"I await your...grand feats with bated breath, Ms. Bennett."

BONUS CONTENT

Max's Mini-POV:

"I await your...grand feats with bated breath, Ms. Bennett," I declared, my words laced with challenge and a mysterious allure.

As she flashed me that wicked grin, a surge of excitement coursed through me, stirring a desire for the unpredictable chaos she brought. Charlotte was like gasoline to my controlled world, and yet I found myself willingly handing her the matches.