“A fewdays?” I stare at him. “How long have I been out?”
“A week.” Max gives me another of those faint, tired smiles. “I’m sorry for sleeping next to you, but I haven’t wanted to leave you. I haven’t gotten much sleep at all, actually.”
Despite my body's complaints, I push myself up against the pillows, wincing at the aches that ripple through me and the feeling of the blankets rubbing against my sensitive skin. It feels almost raw, abraded, even though I’m outwardly fine.
“You’ve been here the whole time? With me?” I feel that flare of guilt again, even though I know it’s not my fault. “I should be the one who’s sorry–and why would you be sorry for sleeping next to me? You know I–”
I break off at the look on his face, so sympathetic that it cuts me to the bone.
“That’s exactly why,” Max says gently. “I didn’t want to lead you on or give you the wrong idea.” He slides off the bed, out of reach, and I feel a pang in my chest that has nothing to do with my illness but an aching sense of loss. “Nothing has changed between us, Sasha.”
Tears rise up so sharply in my eyes, hot and burning, that I barely manage to blink them back before they fall. “O-oh,” I whisper, unable to think of anything else to say.
He moves to the foot of the bed, gripping it in his hands. All I can think of is the way those hands felt on me, sliding over my skin, squeezing my breasts the way he’s squeezing the footboard now, those long fingers slipping inside of me. It’s not just the pleasure that he gave me that I want, buthim. I can’t imagine anyone else ever making me feel the way he did. I don’twantanyone else to. “I meant what I said on the plane, Sasha. We’re friends, as we always have been, so long as that’s what you want. And I will protect you with my life if need be. I will find out who did this, and I will make them pay.”
His hands clench the footboard harder, his knuckles whitening. “I stayed by your bed for a week, Sasha. Youknowhow I feel about you. You know that I–”
Max breaks off, swallowing hard, and I sink my teeth into my lower lip, fighting back the tears with everything I have in me. It feels too hard, like I don’t have the strength to hold them back. “Youwhat?” I whisper, my voice cracking, and he looks at me with those sad hazel eyes that make me feel as if my heart is being torn in two.
“It doesn’t make it any better to say it aloud, Sasha. It will only make this harder. Anditis hard for me, whether you believe me or not. Iwant–” He swallows again, as if he’s fighting back the things he wants to say, choosing his words carefully, andIwant him to say them all, to let them all spill out in a torrent of desire.
But that’s not Max. It never has been.
“I want you safe,” he says finally. “You’re not truly safe with me. It was a mistake not to leave you with Viktor and have him take you to the safe house. I shouldn’t have let my own feelings, my desire to make you happy, get in the way of my better judgment. But I did, and now we’re here.”
“It wasn’t a mistake–”
“The fact that you nearly died means it was.” Max’s voice hardens slightly, taking on a sterner edge. “But we can’t change what happened, only what happens next. You have to listen to me, Sasha, if we’re going to make it out of this. You have to obey me. Do you understand?”
He’s never spoken to me quite so sharply before. But it doesn’t dampen my desire for him. If anything, it fans the flames even more, making the sensation deep in my belly tighter, my thighs squeezing together in response to his authoritative tone.
“Yes,” I whisper, and Max nods.
“The estate should be safe. While you were sick, I gave Tommas–one-half of the couple who manages the house here–instructions to triple the security. No one should be able to make it onto the estate without my knowing about it, unless they’re allowed to be here–which is only you and me. Once you’re well enough, you should be able to enjoy any part of the estate without worry, although if you want to go riding, I expect you to go with me or take at least two members of security with you–”
“Riding?” I interrupt him, my eyes going wide. “There arehorseshere?”
Max’s stern expression falters for a moment, a smile flickering at the corners of his lips. “Yes,” he says, his tone a touch more humorous for a split second. “A whole stable of them. When you’re well enough, I’ll give you a tour of the estate, including the stables.”
He pauses, glancing at the door. “I’m going to go get you some food. When I come back, we can talk more.”
I manage to hold onto the tears until he leaves, and then they fall, hot and fast, as I wipe at my face, spilling down my cheeks faster than I can dash them away.
What were you thinking?I berate myself inwardly, feeling like an idiot.That just because he was sleeping next to you, on top of the blankets, no less, that meant he wanted to be with you? With no other information to go on?
That was exactly what I’d thought, my heart and my hopes running away with my head before I’d stopped to think, and now I feel like the world’s biggest fucking idiot.
You know how I feel about you. You know that I–
I clench my fists, wishing he’d finished the sentence so I didn’t have to sit here and wonder what he meant, if he was going to sayyou know that I love you.
What does it matter, anyway?A fresh wave of tears spills down my cheeks. Even if he’d said it, he was right that it wouldn’t change things–it would only make them harder for us both.
I love him. My therapist had made me doubt it, had almost convinced me that if I dated other men, I’d come to see that I only wanted Max because he was the only option I’d given myself. But every moment I’d spent with Nick had just shown me that all of the qualities I love in Max are because of who Maxis.
He’s selfless, devoted, loyal, and cares about me for whoIam, not for what I could be, or for the perks of my job. He’s a good man, down to his very core.
But all of those things are also the reasons he’s holding me at arm’s length–because he feels like allowing himself to love me, to be with me, means betraying who he is.