I wasn't sure how long the process took, fifty seconds or fifty minutes, but Max never released me. He'd rubbed my back and whispered comforting words until I pulled back just enough to snake my arms up his chiseled chest and around his neck. Calling him my rock didn't do the term—or him—justice.
I pushed onto my tiptoes for a proper kiss, and Max didn't disappoint. God, he made me dizzy. He was my heart.
Giselle and Théo's plan had left Max and me shaken, vulnerable, but not broken. Fractured maybe but still intact. We were on precarious ground, though; the not-quite engagement ring on my right hand was a constant reminder of the things we still needed to fix, as well as everything we were fighting for.
"Give it another week," he said after he'd pulled slightly back. "I meant what I said earlier. Don't feel you have to rush this."
"I have to get back out there, Max. I can't stay holed up here like some unwanted houseguest who sits on her ass all day and eats all your food. I—"
"I'm going to stop you right there, my sweet. For starters, you're not an unwanted houseguest. You live here. This is your home. As for that last point, I'd much rather have you camped out in my bed and eating all my food than the alternative, so please don't let any of that be something that adds to your stress level, okay? I love you, Bree, and I want you here. In my house, in my bed, and most importantly, in my life."
Tears pressed against the backs of my eyes. "I love you, too, Max. I do. So much so, but I need to get back out there. I need something to get my mind off Théo, something besides having sex with you. Even if sex with you is bone-meltingly incredible."
The left side of his mouth tipped up, and he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Oh, the sacrifices I make for you, my sweet."
I couldn't stop my own smile or that all-too-familiar tingle between my legs that made me shiver. Sex with Max, aside from being one of my favorite things to do on the planet, had become my go-to avoidance action. Whenever I woke from a nightmare, what I always needed more than anything was a way to stop thinking about the nightmare, and sex with Max fit the bill in every way. He knew exactly how to touch and to pleasure.
"If you need to get out and do something to distract yourself," he offered, "it doesn't have to be work. Call Vivian and see if she wants some company at the club. No one's getting into Restrained Fantasies. You know that."
Yes, I did know that.
Restrained Fantasies was a local BDSM club where Max was a member in good standing. Well, we both were now. If someone wanted to get into the place, they'd have to bypass not one but two fingerprints scanners.
"Actually," I said, "that's a great idea. Viv texted me earlier and asked if I wanted to meet for lunch one day."
"Why not make one day today?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"You can have food from Ravenous delivered. I'll even call Brock to make the arrangements. I'll drop you myself on my way to work."
I could already feel excitement replacing panic. Although I'd only met her about a month before, I really liked Viv. Her boyfriend—and Dom—was one of the club's co-owners.
"And speaking of work…" His expression softened. "I know you want to go back, but I don't want you to feel like you have to. I do make just enough money to support us both."
I chuckled, which was probably his goal. Maxwell Penn, aside from being the hottest, most adorable man I'd ever met, was also one of the wealthiest men in the world. He helmed a global business empire with so many fingers in so many pies that I couldn't keep it all straight.
"Are you sure?" I drawled, easing him and his sexy lips back toward mine. "Absolutely positive we won't descend into abject poverty without me contributing my measly paycheck to pay our bills."
"Measly paycheck? Tell me… are you angling for a raise, Ms. Jennings?"
"Angling? Never. I've got my boss wrapped around my little finger. Trust me, if I wanted a raise, I'd be able to get one."
He laughed, a sweet sound I didn't hear nearly enough from him, especially since my attack. He harbored so much guilt over what had happened to me, what that maniac had done to me, and no amount of absolution on my part lessened his agony.
I hated that I needed to turn the conversation serious again, but I had to explain myself. "My desire to go back to work is a different kind of need. I'm not worried about going hungry or keeping a roof over my head. I have to prove to myself I still can, that fucking Théo hasn't beaten me."
Max nodded solemnly. Had he considered my need to return to work from that perspective? Considering the dawning realization blooming in his sky-blue eyes, I doubted it, but he was considering it now.
"Okay, you need to work," he began after a moment. "That's important to you. Why don't you come to work with me, then?"
"At Whitecliff's main headquarters?"
He nodded.
Okay, I hadn't expected that.
I always felt… odd going into Whitecliff's main headquarters. At first, that unease came from the fact I'd been secretly screwing the man in charge. Then, it had come from the fact that, in the eyes of Max's plethora of employees, I'd been the pariah with her sights on the man in charge. And now, it was because everyone looked at me as if I were a victim. To be honest, I wasn't sure which I preferred: the pariah or the victim.
"You can work on Red Light's inventory and purchasing from one of the company servers," he continued. "I can set you up with a temporary workstation in my office, so I'll be right there if you need me. Or I can arrange for you to be set up in an empty office. Plus, the building's secure, so you won't have to worry about safety, either."
God, I wanted to cry all over again. "Are you serious? You'd do that for me?"
"Of course, Bree." He kissed the tip of my nose. "I want you to be happy. Watching you struggle to return to work this week has been hard for me to watch; I won't lie about that. And true, I didn't realize just how much you needed to do this until now, but even before I learned that, I've been playing around with the idea of offering you a new position within the Whitecliff International family: director of Whitecliff Charitable Foundation."
"You want to, to—what?" I didn't know Whitecliff International even had a charitable foundation, not that it surprised me. Didn't most big companies have something similar?
"That may not end up being the company's name. I haven't exactly formed it yet." He brushed away a tear as it slid down my cheek. "Do you remember when I told you I'd donated all my earnings from Dubois Fashion to charity?"
I nodded. How could I have forgotten the conversation? We'd had it the night Giselle had leaked my past to the media and my world had flipped upside down. A girl tended to remember those sorts of things.
"I'd donated that money to charity, but I hadn't done it out of kindness. I'd done it out of spite. I knew how much it would anger Théo and Giselle to know the money they desperately wanted to get their hands on was going to charity. That selfish decision on my part backfired exquisitely when I almost lost you."
Like it so often did when he spoke of my attack, his hand drifted to the spot on my flank where I'd likely forever carry the scar from my assault, where Théo's blade had penetrated and lacerated my kidney, where the surgeon had gone in and tried—and ultimately failed—to save that kidney.