Hours later, I felt like I was being held down by the strongest spiderwebs ever created. Suddenly, I saw my mother across the room, looking young again, and she was walking into another room with a man. He had a cigarette in between yellow-stained fingers and he pointed it at me. You’re next, he mouthed. I tried screaming, begging my mother not to go with him, but she couldn’t hear me. She wouldn’t turn around.
There was no sound coming out of my mouth.
I didn’t know where my mother was going. I only knew I was doomed.
Chapter Eleven
Bright lights blazing. Squeezing my eyelids together, I was gasping for air, afraid I’d never be able to get enough.
“Bailey. Bailey.” That voice. That comforting voice. Calm, low, sincere.
I was nearly hyperventilating, still unable to scream, barely able to open my eyes, but feeling his hands on my shoulders helped ground me. Peeling my eyelids open, I tried to focus—and then I nearly drowned in the blue pools above his cheeks. Up this close, the cleft in his chin combined with stubble made him look rugged.
Masculine.
Desirable.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, sitting up a little in bed. I was still struggling to catch my breath, but having Maddox this close comforted me so that I was able to relax.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m all right.”
His hands remained on my shoulders and, suddenly, my mind went somewhere it shouldn’t.
“Do you remember what you were dreaming?”
“No,” I lied. I didn’t want to talk about it, because that horrible dream was based on a memory, one I didn’t want to remember, much less relive.
“Do you have nightmares like that very often?”
Not in a long time. “No. I think it must be due to sleeping in a strange place.”
His smile was soft and warm. “Maybe I should have poured more wine for you. Would you like some now?”
I managed a small chuckle. “No, I’m fine. I promise.”
“Warm milk? Hot chocolate?”
“I’m okay, Maddox. Really.”
Nodding, he squeezed my shoulders comfortingly. “Okay. Well…I’m next door if you need me.”
As he walked toward the door, I began feeling like the walls were caving in on me again. “Wait.”
He turned his head, caressing me gently with his eyes. “Yes?”
“I know this sounds weird, but…would you stay with me? Sleep in here?”
“If that would make you feel better, I could.”
I smiled, ready to scoot over and pull back the covers for him.
“But I have a better idea. My bed’s king-size, so there will be plenty of room for you in there.”
I intended to snuggle up close to him. The size of the bed didn’t matter.
But I did want to see his room.
“If you’d rather, I can sleep in a chair in here so you don’t have to worry about me doing anything ungentlemanly.”
“After the nightmare I had, you’re the least of my worries.”
“Are you remembering some of it then?”
Shit. That was the trouble with lying. “Just a sense of it.”
Near the bed again, he held out a hand for me. When I stood up, I started to make the bed. “We can make it in the morning, Bailey. Let’s get some sleep.”
“You’re right.”
The soft glow of lights along the wall helped us find our way down toward Maddox’s door, and it made me wonder how damn many lights were in this home. These particular ones were near the floor, a mere warm glow lighting our way.
His room really did look like simply the mirror image of mine—when I first walked in. His bathroom and walk-in closet were up against the wall where mine was, and he had a fireplace, too, in almost the exact opposite spot as well. But he had sliding glass doors that faced the rear of the property, and I remembered then that I’d seen a balcony on the northeast corner of the house above the deck. That must be it. But he had more furniture in his room—a loveseat, two chairs, an antique dresser, and a large desk, complete with a laptop.
And another bookshelf.
And his room was decorated in different colors—darker, richer.
Stormier.
“Bailey, I don’t mind sleeping over here,” he said, pointing to the loveseat.
“No. I, um, I don’t want to kick you out of your own bed, especially if you’re going to be uncomfortable”
Nodding, he walked over in the dim light toward the bed, having closed the door to the hallway. “I’d say ladies first, but I’m not in the mood for more lip from a sassy young woman tonight.”
Pursing my mouth closed, I looked up at him, knowing my eyes would register my amusement. Climbing into the bed, I asked, “Does it matter which pillow I use?”
There were four. With my luck, I’d take the one he wanted.
“Use whichever you like.” Joining me on the other side of the bed, he slid under the covers. “Can I shut off the light now—or would you prefer I leave it on?”
“I don’t want to disturb your sleep more than I already have.”
“Okay. Good night, Bailey,” he said, shutting off the light and settling against the mattress.
Before he rolled over, though, I moved closer and wrapped my arm over his chest. “Please hold me close, Maddox.”
He made some sort of growl in his throat, a noise I didn’t think he knew I’d heard, but he wrapped his arm around my shoulders nonetheless. I felt secure then, safe and warm, and I finally relaxed against him.
“Whatever that dream was really bothered you, didn’t it?”
As images of a distant past continued swirling through my head, I nodded slightly. “Yeah. But you make me feel better…so thanks.”
His warm arms around me might have been unconventional, but I hadn’t felt this safe in a long time.
Maybe ever.
And, as I drifted to sleep, I thought I might have heard him say, “You’re welcome.”
* * *
When I awoke the next morning, I was once more disoriented but in a completely different way. Waking up in the room I’d been given would have been strange enough but this was Maddox’s room.
With no Maddox.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so soundly. His arms around me, his body pressed up against mine had done wonders. Sitting up, I stretched, letting out a soft yawn, appreciating how the sunlight made the curtains in the room appear almost translucent.
I got out of bed, bending so that my fingertips touched my toes, stretching all my different muscles to wake them up. Then I decided to make the bed. First, I pulled up the covers on my side, tucking in the sheet before moving to the side where Maddox had lain. Hoping he wouldn’t walk in the room at the wrong moment, I leaned over and smelled his pillow, feeling intoxicated by his scent. Now I’d forever associate his smell with safety.
Maybe not a bad thing.
After I finished making the bed, I tiptoed across the room toward the bathroom door. It was open, but I still strained to hear if, perhaps, he was in the walk-in closet area.
He wasn’t.
I determined then that he was likely at breakfast. The clock next to the bed said it was just a few minutes past eight, so it was pretty early for a Saturday—for yours truly, at any rate. But Maddox seemed like the kind of man who got up at the crack of dawn, no matter what day or time of year.
I felt chilled, so I stopped by my room to put on a robe and slippers before making my way downstairs. The kitchen was empty, but I smelled coffee. Crossing the room, I found the coffeepot on the counter half full and opened cabinets until I found the mugs. Once I had my drink, I made my way to the breakfast nook, but he wasn’t there, either. And he wasn’t in the sitting room, on the deck, or even in his office.
Maybe he was gone.
I decided then that it was a good time to read while I drank my coffee. Because Maddox was pretty
damned fond of that collection of books in his man cave, I’d have to check them out. So, large mug of steamy coffee in hand, I made my way through the house until I was walking down the stairs that led to the bottom floor. Once I got there, I turned to the left to head toward the den but, as I walked past the workout room (it wasn’t big enough for me to think of it as a gym), I heard music.
Not just any music. Hip hop. Specifically, rap.
It wasn’t anything I recognized, but there was a lot of cursing, making me want to peek in to get a glimpse of Maddox’s workout routine. Hell, I wanted to tease him about the music. But it just emphasized how truly little I knew about the man, how much I needed to learn.
It was time to get to know him better through his book choices. I felt a little odd walking in the den, but he’d told me more than once that it was okay, that I could borrow books from there any time I wanted to. In fact, he encouraged it.
And there were so many books in there. I spent a lot of time looking on shelf after shelf—so much time that my mug was half empty, the coffee cooling by the time I finally settled on the hardback version of a book I’d been meaning to read for a very long time: The Girl on the Train. I made a mental note of where it belonged and then left the room, switching off the light behind me.
But I couldn’t not go in the gym now, especially when I heard Maddox shouting some lyrics. How could I resist?
Pushing the door open, I walked into the room. Maddox was facing the mirrors, lifting free weights, making his biceps bulge. Even though I’d been around him for almost an entire week and had curled up next to him last night, I hadn’t quite realized till just this moment how ripped he was.
Maybe it was because he was working those muscles at the moment.
The music was louder in here but the air was cooler, and I considered leaving, feeling like I was intruding on his personal time, but he spotted me in the mirror as I turned. “Bailey, come on in.”
I looked at him through the reflection, forcing a smile. I hadn’t even put on makeup this morning or washed my face. What a dummy. I knew I’d have the old stuff on which, in my opinion, was better than nothing, but I doubted I looked okay.
Why the hell had I come in here?
“I’d invite you to step on the treadmill, but it looks like your hands are full.”
Nodding, I forced a smile and walked in enough that the door closed behind me. Raising my voice, I said, “You’re being kind of noisy in here. I just wanted to ask you to keep it down.”
“Oh, really?” Even joking, the raised eyebrow sent a chill down my spine—but I still remembered how warm and comforting his arms had felt last night. “I thought everybody felt more inspired and motivated to finish a set when they shout the F word as loud as they can.” He began lifting the weight in his left hand again, causing the bicep to bulge once more.
“That’s a great way to get booted out of a gym.”
“That’s why I own my own.” He started lifting with his other arm. “So you took me up on the offer, I see. What book are you reading?”
“Well, I decided to start with this.” Adjusting my coffee cup, I held it up so he could see the front cover. “The Girl on the Train. I’ve been meaning to read it for a while.”
What was the look on his face? I couldn’t figure it out, but he didn’t seem pleased with my choice. “I haven’t read that one yet.”
If his mood had remained light, I would have asked him why a book he hadn’t read was in his precious den, but I suspected I shouldn’t go there. “I’ll let you know if it’s worth it. Anyway…I’ll let you get back to your workout. Sorry to interrupt.”
“I challenge you to join me tomorrow.”
I gave him a quick smile as I opened the door. “I just might.” I’d never been one for formal exercise. Since moving downtown when I got the job with Essential, I’d walked everywhere, only using my clunker car when I had to visit my mom or go somewhere farther than a couple of miles, and I usually took the stairs in my apartment building. So I got in plenty of steps—and, when I went grocery shopping, I worked my arm muscles.
But working out with Maddox? That might be fun—simply watching him would be a delight.
And I hadn’t gotten in my steps since working at home, so I probably needed it.
For now, though, I was going to sit in the breakfast nook, happy to enjoy the sun shining in while it melted the new blanket of snow outside, and I’d sip coffee, reading an engaging book.
I topped off my mug before wandering into the nook and then sat so I was facing the windows. While the sun would have felt nice on my back, it would have been too bright on the pages. I took a sip of coffee and then set the mug on the table so I could crack the book open. I’d heard so much about this book over the years, but I’d never seen the movie. I only knew it had a heck of a twist, and I was eager to dig in.
But when I opened the cover and turned the first couple of pages, I saw that the book appeared to be signed on the inner title page. And there was a card tucked in the book after that.
I couldn’t resist, cracking it open.
Happy birthday, Maddox. What do you get the man who has everything? After all this time, I still don’t know, but I hope this will do. With all my love, Kate
Who was Kate?
She had good instincts. If I had to buy Maddox a gift, a signed copy of a book with a bit of mystery might fit the bill.
“Turned out to be a beautiful day, didn’t it?”
Maddox’s voice booming through the space without warning startled me and I dropped the book on the table.
Should I even ask him who’d given him the book?
As I nodded, he said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you jump.”
“I didn’t hear you coming.”
“They don’t call ‘em sneakers for nothing.”
Looking up at him, I could see tiny beads of perspiration on his skin that I hadn’t noticed when I’d been in the gym. The way his hair matted against his forehead made my imagination go wild.
I had no words, though, or jokes about what he was saying. Thinking about a woman named Kate distracted me from all else.
Maybe he’d offered a solution, though.
“I think I will work out.”
“Book not doing it for you?”
“I haven’t started yet.”
“I couldn’t get into it. Anyway, have you eaten breakfast yet?”
“No.”
“It goes without saying…just help yourself to whatever while you’re here. If you want to eat together, I can wait till you’re done with your workout.”
I nodded, picking up the book and my mug, and we walked through the kitchen together toward the stairs. He mentioned needing to shower—which made me wonder why he’d come to the breakfast nook anyway. It was a bit out of the way.
Maybe he’d remembered what I’d find in that book.
Or maybe he was coming to see me.
Both silly notions. But, as my feet pounded out several miles on the treadmill, I found I couldn’t get any of that shit out of my head.
Being in Maddox Steel’s overwhelming home didn’t help.
Chapter Twelve
I spent most of that day reading—but I switched to a couple of romance novels in my reading app. I just couldn’t bring myself to pick up that book from Kate again. I had a ridiculously bad feeling about it.
About her. Someone I’d never met.
But Maddox had sweet talked me into spending the evening with him. We made a stir-fry dinner, which meant chopping a lot of veggies, and then movies.
“Hitchcock,” he said, “made more than one film that has you guessing the whole time. If you don’t mind black-and-white, we can watch some great cinema.”
“I trust your judgment.”
Maddox’s energy felt like that of a young boy excited to share his new toys. While he set up the popcorn machine, he had me looking through the descriptions of the different Hitchcock films he owned. While he recommended North by
Northwest and Rear Window, I asked him about Dial M for Murder.
“Whatever you want.”
It was close to eleven after we finished two tense, enjoyable Hitchcock films. “One more?” he asked.
As much as I liked movies—and loved spending time with him—I was tired of staring at a screen. “Maybe tomorrow?”
“Maybe next week. I like to spend Sunday night getting ready for Monday.”
I wondered how his Sunday night prep compared to mine. I figured I was doing great if I made sure I got to bed at a decent hour and had clean clothes.
I might be able to learn something from this man.
“But you’re right. It’s getting late.” He shut things off and soon we were making our way up the stairs. “So what brought you to Essential Solutions in the first place, Bailey? How’d my company get so lucky?”
Fighting against the urge to scoff, I thanked him instead. “I’d been trying to find a great entry level position that used a lot of the skills I’d been learning in college. All through school, I’d waited tables. I was good at it, but I knew it wouldn’t pay off my student loans. My degree in communications was pretty general, but I knew it could get me far if I found the right job.” Trying to hide a scowl as we began walking toward the second floor, I continued. “I thought it could get me far—but, as I said, I haven’t moved up in the company.”
His deep, rich voice made my toes all but curl as it seemed to caress me from behind. “What about what I have you doing right now? Does that feel like a step up from customer service?”
Shrugging, I continued taking one step at a time, looking forward so as not to make eye contact with Maddox. “A little. But, honestly, it’s not fully utilizing my talents.”
We paused, having reached the top of the stairs. “What would?”
“Anymore, I don’t know. I’ve started questioning myself, doubting my abilities, wondering if maybe entry level stuff really is all I’d be good at.”
“I think you’re wrong, Bailey.” His eyes searched mine. “You’re flexible and learn quickly. You’re smart. And this past week has shown me that we probably are wasting your talents.”
Quarantined with the Billionaire Page 10
