“You better take care of that,” he says flatly, pointing at my foot and handing me the medicine box.
I act on autopilot, taking out disinfectant and a Band Aid. My hand shakes when I pull out the piece of glass. The sting burns all the way to my heart. I glance up at him. He’s watching me quietly, his face an unreadable mask.
“How did you find me?” I ask.
“When I couldn’t track you down in Marseille, I knew you’d skipped the country. It wasn’t that difficult. I only had to have your family followed.”
My heart starts beating in my temples. “Damian?”
“His wife.”
I jump to my feet. “Stay the hell away from them, do you hear me?”
“Whether I stay away from them is up to you. However, you will speak to your brother tomorrow and tell him we’re back together. You’re going to take me to meet him. How things happen from there depends on how convincing you are. We can be like the couple in my story, leaving nicely, or I can kill a few people before we go. As I said, it’s all up to you, my little flower.”
His voice is even, disinterested almost. It’s as if his fire has burned out after our fight, but I know better. I know him too well. He’s pulled away, hiding deep inside himself. He’s become the cold psychopath again. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep on trying to draw him out of his shell and hoping to reach him. This love I feel, this hopeless, wrong, painful love, I’m not sure it’s worth fighting for. It almost destroyed me once. I can’t let it happen again.
When he pushes me down with a hand on my shoulder, I’m too weary to resist. I simply sink down into the cushions and let him take my foot in his hand. I watch him disinfect and bandage the cut with the meticulous attention that makes him Maxime. I sit quietly while he cleans up the broken glass and mops the floor. I don’t say a word while he boils water and makes tea.
“Have you eaten?” he asks, handing me a cup.
“I’m not hungry.” I can’t be a complete monster. “If you are, there’s food in the fridge.”
He doesn’t smile at the offer. He waits for me to drink my tea, then helps me to my feet.
“Can you put weight on that?” he asks, looking at my bandaged heel.
I flinch when I put my foot down. “I think it may take a day or two.”
Scooping me into his arms, he carries me to the bedroom and lays me down on the bed. He sets the gun on the nightstand and settles next to me before pulling the covers over us. I don’t brush my teeth or wash my face. We don’t undress. We simply lie next to each other in the layers that protect our bodies and hearts, breathing quietly in the dark, both of us staring at the ceiling.
After a long moment, a big, masculine hand rubs against my smaller one where it lies on the mattress, his pinky locking gently over mine.
Chapter 8
Maxime
Waking up early is an inaccurate statement. It’s more like I never slept. At the crack of dawn, I take the gun and go to the kitchen, leaving Zoe in bed. She’s not sleeping either, but she can do with the rest. We have a long flight ahead of us.
I find bacon and eggs in the fridge and make breakfast. I’m drinking a strong cup of coffee when Zoe walks into the kitchen, showered and changed. My gaze skims over her frilly blouse and fitted jeans. The clothes are her, the woman I got to know. She’s as beautiful as ever, even as a blonde. My heart skips a beat. The truth gives me a head rush. She’s truly here and not just a vision from one of my empty dreams. I have her back.
I pull out a chair at the breakfast counter. “I kept your breakfast warm in the oven.” Using a mitten, I serve her the warm plate of food. “Coffee?”
“Yes.” Like an afterthought, she adds, “Please.”
I pour a cup and stir in two sugars the way she likes. Gripping a strand of her hair, I twist it between my fingers. “You’re going to dye this back to your natural color.”
Her words are catty. “I thought men liked blondes.”
“I like you for who you are unless you want to be a blonde now.”
“Not particularly.” She folds her hands around the mug. “Anyway, it’s a lot of work to keep up.”
Good. It’s one step closer to who we used to be, to who we’re supposed to be. “Eat your breakfast, then call your brother. I’m going for a shower.”
She eyes the door. I smile. The keys are safely in my pocket, the alarm on the door set, and I’ve already confiscated her phone. If she thinks she can run from me again, she’s got another think coming.
While she eats, I shower and pull a clean shirt from my overnight bag. The pants are crumpled from sleeping in them, so I pull on a pair from the suit travel bag I’ve stored in Zoe’s closet. I’m ready in twenty minutes, finding Zoe in a clean kitchen. It would’ve been fifteen if I didn’t have to tend to my painfully hard dick in the shower.
Defeat sits in her shoulders, their proud line slouched. “Damian can meet us at ten.”
“If you have any loose ends to tie up, I suggest you do so now.”
From the thorough check I did on her, I know she doesn’t have any accounts. She pays cash for everything. We only have to give notice to her employer and rental agent.
While she writes a letter of resignation, I make the bed and take the bag she keeps packed from her closet.
I dump it at her feet in the kitchen. “I suppose you’ll need this.”
She gives me a cutting look.
“Come on.” Wrapping my arm around her waist, I support her while she hops down the stairs and to my car on one foot.
“How did you get in here?” she asks as I throw our bags in the trunk.
“I got someone to hack into the rental agency’s database. We pulled your code for the gate and your thumbprint for the boom.” Smiling, I open her door. “This may or may not surprise you, but there isn’t an alarm in this world I can’t override or a lock I can’t pick.”
“Right,” she says, letting me help her into her seat.
I fasten her safety belt before going around to my side. Throwing the keys up in the air, I catch them in a fist. My heart beats again. For the first time in months, I feel something other than despair. The autumn day is warm with the fragrance of honeysuckle hanging in the air. It’s pretty. It’s the only way I can experience these upbeat things. It’s the only way I can eat and taste the food, only when I have Zoe by my side.
Zoe gives directions while I drive, even if I know where Damian’s office is. The block he owns is a glass skyscraper with a helicopter landing pad on the roof not far from Newtown. Big, silver letters spell Hart Diamonds across the front of the building with the company logo depicted underneath. The place is like Fort Knox. We’re searched before we enter the parking. I don’t have a choice but to leave my gun in the visitor’s safe. Then my car is searched. After a lengthy process of signing in, we go through scanners, are searched again and made to wait in an area with heat sensitive scanners that pick up above normal body temperatures to raise a viral threat alarm. This guy leaves nothing to chance.
A woman in her late fifties meets us when we clear the final checkpoint. “This way, please.”