His chin nodded in the direction of the cleaver that he’d left on the kitchen island while preparing the meal. “Pick that up, would you? It needs to be washed as well.”
When he glanced at her again, a smirk pulling at the corner of his sculpted lips, she reached over to retrieve the cleaver and walked it around the island to stand next to him at the sink. He plucked the heavy utensil from her fingers and sunk it down into the soapy water before handing her a dishtowel to dry the plate he handed her next.
When they’d settled into a routine of washing, rinsing and drying the dishes and cookware, Alice thought she would laugh at the oddity this change in her life represented. From what moment to the next, she’d been living life alone to find herself standing next to a man who would be her husband, doing something as typical and mundane as washing dishes.
“You know, they have these handy machines now called dishwashers that would make this task a lot easier.”
Max glanced at her before pulling another soiled dish from the soapy water. “I prefer to wash them by hand. Dishwashers never get them quite clean enough for my preference.”
He didn’t bother looking at her, his gaze held steady on the task at hand, the dishes that needed to be cleaned and polished to a shine so that they appeased his need for a clean and tidy house. Glancing at the plate in her hand, Alice admired the reflection that stared back at her, the dead eyes of a woman now brought to life by a man who’d swept in to save her from herself.
He turned to her at that moment, his body dangerously close to hers, his hair brushing over his shoulder as he angled his head in question while watching her with lazy and admiring eyes. Scanning her body, his liquid gaze started at her hips, settling on her breasts as they worked their way up until coming to lock with the nervous anticipation behind her eyes. “Thank you for agreeing to live with me, Alice. Thank you for agreeing to be my wife. You have no idea how much all of this means to me.”
He pulled the cleaver from the soapy water, washed it slowly until all traces of the meat he’d used it to cut were absent from the blade and handed it to her to rinse and dry to a perfect polish. The blade was heavy in her hand as she worked the towel over the surface, happiness reflected back at her behind the darker blue color of her gaze.
After finishing the last dish, he watched her as she polished off the beads of hot water and placed it in a rack.
“We’ve both had a busy day. I think it’s time for us to see if we can get some sleep.”
A few seconds before and she would have sworn her nerves couldn’t get worse, but he’d proven her wrong with two sentences.
Her legs became jelly beneath her, sticky sweat reaching out to grasp onto the fabric of her dress and hug it tightly against her skin. “Bed? Am I…are we…”
He studied her with amusement, the height he had over her making her feel like a small child. With a calculated gaze that was as mysterious and beautiful as an iceberg turned so that its belly breached the surface, his eyes were as alive and dangerous as the ocean that harbored those deadly islands of ice that had sunk so many ships.
“Take the stairs up to the bedroom. Sit down on the edge of the bed. I’ll be up in a moment to help you into your night clothes.”
Panic set in, her body trembling as she put distance between them, happy to walk away, but nervous about where she was going. Alice wasn’t sure if the nightmares would rear their ugly head as she slept beside him, if he wouldn’t kick her out the following morning when he discovered all the disorders that plagued her.
However, if it did happen, and if Max were unable to sleep with her beside him, she could offer to sleep in another room, attempt to find a place in the large three story house where her issues with sleep wouldn’t become his as well.
Mounting the stairs with a hesitant foot, she climbed them one by one, each time swallowing a knot of panic that kept lodging itself in her throat.
Reaching the top floor, she shook her head of the worries that were whispering in her thoughts.
Her hand grasped the doorway of the bedroom and she paused to take a steadying breath.
Forcing herself inside, she sat on the edge of the bed, her legs heavy where they were pressed together, her mind a wash of concern.
She wanted to run and find another room in the house to call her own, but only because she didn’t want to lose this man to the nightmares that had always been her constant companion. Nerves had her fighting herself to not pace the room just to expend some energy. But even given her fears, she was still waiting and anxious to see what bedtime in this man’s house would bring.