Page 39 of Quarantined with the Billionaire

“Are you remembering some of it then?”

Shit. That was the trouble with lying. “Just a sense of it.”

Near the bed again, he held out a hand for me. When I stood up, I started to make the bed. “We can make it in the morning, Bailey. Let’s get some sleep.”

“You’re right.”

The soft glow of lights along the wall helped us find our way down toward Maddox’s door, and it made me wonder how damn many lights were in this home. These particular ones were near the floor, a mere warm glow lighting our way.

His room really did look like simply the mirror image of mine—when I first walked in. His bathroom and walk-in closet were up against the wall where mine was, and he had a fireplace, too, in almost the exact opposite spot as well. But he had sliding glass doors that faced the rear of the property, and I remembered then that I’d seen a balcony on the northeast corner of the house above the deck. That must be it. But he had more furniture in his room—a loveseat, two chairs, an antique dresser, and a large desk, complete with a laptop.

And another bookshelf.

And his room was decorated in different colors—darker, richer.

Stormier.

“Bailey, I don’t mind sleeping over here,” he said, pointing to the loveseat.

“No. I, um, I don’t want to kick you out of your own bed, especially if you’re going to be uncomfortable”

Nodding, he walked over in the dim light toward the bed, having closed the door to the hallway. “I’d say ladies first, but I’m not in the mood for more lip from a sassy young woman tonight.”

Pursing my mouth closed, I looked up at him, knowing my eyes would register my amusement. Climbing into the bed, I asked, “Does it matter which pillow I use?”

There were four. With my luck, I’d take the one he wanted.

“Use whichever you like.” Joining me on the other side of the bed, he slid under the covers. “Can I shut off the light now—or would you prefer I leave it on?”

“I don’t want to disturb your sleep more than I already have.”

“Okay. Good night, Bailey,” he said, shutting off the light and settling against the mattress.

Before he rolled over, though, I moved closer and wrapped my arm over his chest. “Please hold me close, Maddox.”

He made some sort of growl in his throat, a noise I didn’t think he knew I’d heard, but he wrapped his arm around my shoulders nonetheless. I felt secure then, safe and warm, and I finally relaxed against him.

“Whatever that dream was really bothered you, didn’t it?”

As images of a distant past continued swirling through my head, I nodded slightly. “Yeah. But you make me feel better…so thanks.”

His warm arms around me might have been unconventional, but I hadn’t felt this safe in a long time.

Maybe ever.

And, as I drifted to sleep, I thought I might have heard him say, “You’re welcome.”

* * *

When I awoke the next morning, I was once more disoriented but in a completely different way. Waking up in the room I’d been given would have been strange enough but this was Maddox’s room.

With no Maddox.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so soundly. His arms around me, his body pressed up against mine had done wonders. Sitting up, I stretched, letting out a soft yawn, appreciating how the sunlight made the curtains in the room appear almost translucent.

I got out of bed, bending so that my fingertips touched my toes, stretching all my different muscles to wake them up. Then I decided to make the bed. First, I pulled up the covers on my side, tucking in the sheet before moving to the side where Maddox had lain. Hoping he wouldn’t walk in the room at the wrong moment, I leaned over and smelled his pillow, feeling intoxicated by his scent. Now I’d forever associate his smell with safety.

Maybe not a bad thing.

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