Page 47 of Quarantined with the Billionaire

But I knew I might not ever get answers.

And rather than begin questioning myself, asking why I’d just seduced this man, I let myself drift off to sleep, because tomorrow I’d have all damn day to think about it.

* * *

I awoke later, realizing my arm felt cold. A few seconds later, as I opened my eyes, I realized I was still in Maddox’s room and it was still nighttime. He was sitting up in bed, pointing a remote over at the fireplace and the flames obeyed his command, growing larger. Then he shut off the lamp, sliding back down so that his head was on the pillow.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s okay. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No.” As I pulled the covers up to my neck, he said, “Roll onto your side.” I understood that he meant away from him, so I turned as he cradled me against his body. He was still naked, but his cock wasn’t digging into me now. I wondered if he was doing this to make me safe or so he wouldn’t have to look me in the eyes. His flesh was warm against mine and I allowed myself to once more feel safe in his arms.

I had so many questions, but the time wasn’t right. Instead, I had to simply appreciate the moment and take it for whatever it might be.

“What happened to you, Bailey?”

My eyes popped open then and I stared at the drapes nearby, marveling at how the shadows jumped and danced around because of the fireplace now behind me. “What do you mean?” My voice sounded more pathetic than I would have liked, but I couldn’t take it back.

“You were having another nightmare, and you were talking in your sleep.”

Swallowing, I fought to make my voice sound strong. “What did I say?”

“I couldn’t tell. It was just something about your mother.”

Oh, shit. I knew what that meant. It was the same damn dream about the same damn incident, one that had caused a cascade of events that had stripped me of my childhood. The one thing from my past that had haunted me throughout my life.

And no way was I going to talk about it.

“Do you ever remember your dreams?”

“No.” His arms seemed to hold me more tightly. “Are you still worried about your mom?”

“Yeah. And my stepdad. I’ll call them again tomorrow.”

He seemed to take that as an okay answer and we didn’t talk for a while. I knew damned good and well that my dream hadn’t been about that, but the dream I did have was the same one I had whenever I was worried or stressed. And I supposed I’d be feeling that way until our world returned to normal.

If it ever would.

“Maddox?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

He was growing sleepy, so asking him anything wouldn’t guarantee any sort of real answer, but I wanted to ask anyway. “Why didn’t you want to make love to me?”

I heard his breath going in and out and, after a long pause, I figured maybe he’d drifted off to sleep. But he finally spoke. His words were heavy, buried under the curtain of fatigue, but I listened intently so as not to miss anything. “I wanted to, Bailey. And I know you think you want me, but trust me. You don’t.”

“Then why did you kiss me in the hallway? Before bed?”

“I couldn’t resist you anymore.”

Anymore? Had he been fighting against urges this whole time? I swallowed, trying to understand.

“But I know better, even if you don’t. I’m not who you think I am, Bailey.”

He was probably right. I remembered my intense loathing of people who had money, of this very man who’d just been inside me. But he was more than just a rich bastard, more than just the owner of the company I slaved for.

I’d seen just a glimpse inside his heart, enough to see the man he wanted to be—and, if I loved and trusted myself at all, I had to believe part of me knew what it was doing.

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