He watched her intently, his expression uncertain. “You think?”
Nodding her head, she answered, “I’ve lived alone for a long time now. And I don’t always remember what happened while I was sleeping. Usually I can figure out it wasn’t good when I wake up to find the pillows and blankets on the floor, or when I wake up to find myself somewhere else entirely.”
Pulling her tighter against his chest, Max allowed silence to settle between them, both of their thoughts kept to themselves as a sense of comfort enveloped them in the morning light.
“We should get moving at some point.” His arms pulling away from where they’d held her, Max stood from the bed, the mattress shifting beneath her at the loss of his weight. Alice turned to watch him walk into the bathroom and close the door.
Finally convincing herself that it was time to get up, Alice shimmied to the edge of the bed, her mind still wandering about what she would do for the day when Max opened the bathroom door, a cloud of steam dancing out from behind him.
A white towel was wrapped loosely around his hips as he approached a large bureau. Dropping the towel from around his hips, Max tossed it into a wicker hamper, the firm cheeks of his ass staring back at Alice from beneath broad shoulders, a strong back, and the indented line that ran along the length of his spine. Smooth skin barely contained the steel musculature of his body, and Alice became lost to the way his biceps flexed when he pulled clothes from his bureau.
Dark blue jeans and a simple white t-shirt. It seemed too casual for a man as sophisticated as him.
After getting dressed, Max disappeared into his closet, reappearing with the outfit he’d selected for her to wear.
“I grabbed this for you.” He dropped a simple white dress into her lap before turning to walk across the room and out into the hall. From over his shoulder, he said, “Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done. I’ll start breakfast.”
Alice smiled and she couldn’t believe her luck for having found a man as considerate as the one who would be her future husband.
She stood up on tired and sore legs to stand before the full-length mirror. Max had chosen a simple dress with buttons up the front, a blue sash as a belt to cinch it at her waist.
Pulling the cloth over her shoulders, she fastened the buttons one by one before tying the sash and looking at reflection in the mirror. The dress was quite beautiful, despite its simplicity, but her hair was a frightful mess of blonde limp tendrils. Reaching up, she braided the mess back to give it the illusion of being styled before huffing out a breath and making her way out of the room and down three flights of stairs.
From the kitchen came loud clanging sounds, pots and pans being pulled from cabinets, the sizzle of bacon heard seconds before the smell hit her nose like an avalanche of temptation. Her stomach rumbled as she stepped barefoot from the wood floors of the entry hall onto the cool stone tile.
“I’m here,” she stated softly.
“Take a seat at the center island, Alice. Breakfast will be ready in a minute.”
Plates were set down on the counter before her, a different design than the ones she’d dropped the night before. Eggs and bacon, toast and juice, an ordinary meal that made her smile brightly.
“Eat.”
“Yes, sir,” she laughed, assuming Max’ assertiveness was simply a facet of his personality. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Max had a tendency to make demands, or even choices, without first asking her what she wanted to eat or wear. She assumed it had more to do with his fastidiousness, the calculated and precise manner in which he ran his own life. He was the type of man who controlled the room around him, but Alice didn’t see it as a negative aspect to his personality. Her life, up to that point, had been so far out of control that it felt good to let somebody else take the wheel for a change.
But even with that logic, something bothered her about Max, about the manner in which he’d taken over control so easily.
Picking up her fork, she ignored the whispers inside her head, the nagging reminders that Max reminded her of another man in her life, one she’d run from as soon as the opportunity had been there to escape.
Slipping the tines of the fork into the scrambled eggs, she fed herself slowly, chewing thoughtfully on the food that would sustain her. She enjoyed the salty slide across her tongue, the warmth that traveled down her throat to land on an empty belly. Relief was found in the comfort of the nourishment he’d provided her.