His fingers tightened. “Damn it,” he whispered.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Damn it,” he said again.

“Max—?”

His eyes drifted momentarily shut. When they opened again, she saw the resolve in them. “I want you to stay here this weekend.”

Sidney blinked. Oh, Lord. Not that. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I want you to stay here.”

Vintage Max, she mused. No explanations. No commonsense argument. Direct, and straight to the point. What Max wanted, he was used to getting. She’d been afraid of this when she’d spoken to her uncle. Max had a lot riding on this weekend. He’d want to make sure someone was covering for Philip. He couldn’t know that three uninterrupted days with him would shrink her into a bowl of nerves. “I don’t think—”

“There are twenty bedrooms in this place, not including the guest quarters where Philip usually stays when we’re out here. You could have the apartment to yourself.”

“Really, I—”

“Your staff is going to stay, aren’t they?”

She reached for her patience. “Not all of them. Only the few that I’ll need for early morning. You have an ample household staff to cover whatever happens during the night. You won’t need any extra help until your guests start moving around tomorrow.”

“I want you to stay.”

She stifled a groan. “I know you—”

He leaned closer to her and said, with a soft insistence that curled her toes, “I’m serious.”

She couldn’t decide what he meant by that. “I can see that.”

“Philip would stay.”

“It’s Phillip’s job to stay.”

“He won’t like it if you leave.”

She recognized the lightning-fast change in strategy. He wasn’t getting his way by bullying her, so he’d switched to guilt as a maneuvering tactic. “He doesn’t like being sick, either, but he is. I had planned to stay with him tonight.”

Max eased his hand down her arm to cup her elbow. There was something oddly intimate about the slight heat of his fingers seeping through her jacket. “I appreciate your concern about Philip. I’ll send someone over to take care of him.”

Sidney felt herself losing ground. “I really feel I should check on him myself.”

“He told you to stay here, didn’t he?”

The man was too insightful, that was his problem—and he was making it her problem. Philip had argued with her for nearly an hour. Somehow, Max knew it, and didn’t hesitate to use the knowledge to his advantage. “I think you can understand why Philip would want—”

“Didn’t he?” Max prompted.

She squelched a sigh of irritation. Max knew Philip well. “Yes.”

Philip had worked for the Loden family for forty years. Two days after Max’s birth, he’d been promoted to senior butler. And he considered the care and tending of Max Loden his life’s work. When Sidney had informed him that she planned to leave her assistant in charge overnight, Philip had pushed himself up in his sickbed and given her a sound lecture on the importance of personal service. Sidney had no answer for that. She certainly couldn’t explain that she was sure to be wearing her heart on her sleeve by the end of the weekend.

“Then what’s the problem?” Max persisted.

Sidney frowned at him. “Uncle Philip doesn’t run my life, you know?”

“He runs mine pretty well.”

“And he can’t right now. He needs someone, and I want to be there for him.”

“By driving home at two o’clock in the morning? Do you have any idea what kind of people are on the road at that hour?”

“Overworked caterers who are being harassed by their clients?”

His scowl darkened his features. “Drunks and criminals.”

“I’ll be careful.”

He uttered a mild curse. “It’ll be almost four when you get there. You’ll get three hours sleep, and then drive back out here tomorrow. That’s inefficient and foolish.”

Blunt as usual, she thought irritably. “There’s more to life than efficiency, you know.”

His expression told her he thought that was ludicrous, and barely resisted the urge to tell her so. He shook his head instead. “What are you going to be worth to me tomorrow night, or the night after, if you’re exhausted?”

“I assure you, you won’t have any complaints.”

“I know I won’t if you stay here.”

“Why are we arguing about this?”

“Because you aren’t giving me my way.” He reached for the wall phone. “I’m going to send Charlie to your house to pick up your clothes.”

Sidney recognized the name of one of Max’s chauffeurs. “Max—”

He ignored the warning note in her voice. “Really,” he said. “I left Charlie in town with the limo. It’s a stretch. I never use the damned thing. Too pretentious, and parking’s impossible.” He punched a couple of numbers.

“Then why have it?”

He shrugged. “Because I’m supposed to. People expect it.”

Sidney abruptly pressed down the receiver button. “Max, stop it. This isn’t going to work.”

He ignored her. “Of course it will. If you call someone to pack a bag for you, Charlie can swing by your place, get your stuff, then stop at Philip’s on the way here to let him know your plans have changed.”

“That’s not—” She drew a deep breath. “I’m not staying.”

“He can be here by midnight if I call him now.”

“I hadn’t planned to work all weekend.” Sidney said.

That stopped him. “You had plans?”

Plans like fighting her way through her accounts, and trying, somehow, to dig her way out of the mess her tax accountant had left her holding. Plans like taking care of her uncle. Still, they were her plans, and while Max might have succeeded in taking over the lives of his family, her life was her own. “Yes. I do.”

“Hell. Can you cancel them?”

“Maybe I don’t want to. And why is this so important to you, anyway?”

“I just want you here to take care of things, Sidney.”

Something about that didn’t ring quite true. She frowned at him. “I know you’ll miss Philip, but—”

“I’m not trying to be a jerk about this, you know.”

“Really?” She raised a knowing eyebrow.

He stared at her. She pictured him rummaging through his mental bag of tricks for a new strategy. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he said softly. “What am I paying you for this? Four, five thousand for the weekend?”

She gritted her teeth. “There hasn’t been time to discuss the terms of the contract. Philip got sick this afternoon.”

“Did you already have an event for this weekend?”

“That’s not—”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have to cancel it?”

“I spread my staff out, and brought on some extra people. We’re fine.”

His low whistle parted her hair. “I hope you’re charging me a premium for this. How much overtime are you shelling out this weekend?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure the bill hurts when you pay it.”

“I doubt it. Look.” He covered her hand where she still had her finger on the phone. “Whatever you’re planning to bill me, I’ll double it if you stay.”

“Why?”

He stared at her for several breathless seconds. “Because I’ve got a lot riding on this weekend and it’ll make me feel better if you’re here.”

“For a man with a renowned sense of business acumen, paying twice my fee for a little personal security seems a little rash.”

He shrugged. “Don’t let it get out. The stock market might crash.”

Not even a hint of humor showed in his expression. Sidney searched his face for some indication, even a flicker of evidence that he wasn’t absolutely serious. Finding none, she released a careful breath. “Are you going to let me out of the pantry—or do you plan to hold me hostage in here until I agree?”

“Will it work?”

“I can be kind of stubborn.”

“So Philip tells me.”

“I really feel like I should check on him tomorrow.”

“If I send someone over there tonight to make sure he’s okay, can’t you go in the morning?”

“I’d have to drive all the way down there and back in time for lunch.”