Page 22 of Her Reclusive Beast

In the morning, I wake to an empty bed. I’m not sure why I find that slightly disappointing. But I do. Maybe I want to preen a little over having Max in the same bed with me. Not that I did anything to accomplish that, but I’m excited by these recent developments and I want to enjoy them for as long as possible. Taking a moment to stretch, I contemplate all the variables of the upcoming day. I should work. Javier is still here. Max and I are supposedly getting married. Although I’m not entirely sure I didn’t dream that one up all on my own.

With a sigh, I sit up and roll out of the giant bed. A brief stint in the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, and I feel slightly more optimistic. Until I descend the stairs and find the most domestic scene awaiting me in the kitchen.

Max is studying a pan full of sizzling bacon that smells divine while Javier sits relaxed at the nearby table. Kiki, the traitor, is curled up on his lap purring. She blinks her green eyes at me, then closes them in bliss, her sharp little claws partially extended as she kneads Javier’s trousers. He doesn’t even flinch.

I sigh and head straight for the coffeepot. Max looks up from his pans with a frown. “Everything okay, Jenna?”

Pouring coffee as I contemplate the question, I eventually answer, “I’m not sure. What’s the plan for today and when are you going to answer my questions?”

Max moves the bacon and hash browns I’ve only just noticed onto plates before cracking eggs into the now empty frying pans. “The plan is for you to edit while Javier chases down the necessary people and paperwork.”

“And what will you be doing?” I inquire suspiciously.

Max raises one eyebrow but doesn’t respond until all the plates are on the table. “I’ll be following up with my agent and my attorney to ensure Rudnam understands their precarious legal position.”

Well, that took the wind right out of my sails. I pout around my mouthful of eggs. What I really want to be doing is snuggling up with Max in his winter hideaway while he explains everything I’m so very confused about.

Javier glances over with what almost could be construed as sympathy, but he doesn’t say anything. He simply continues stroking Kiki with one hand while eating neatly with the other.

“Are we really sure this is a good idea?” I mutter somewhat rhetorically. However, both men take it seriously. Javier merely nodding while Max’s frown deepens.

“It probably isn’t. However, it beats the current alternative,” he offers dryly.

But my heart catches on his first sentence. He doesn’t want to get married? Or just to me? But, earlier he’d said… Suddenly my appetite is gone. I push my plate back, preparing to stand and escape. Editing never sounded so good. I’ll be left alone with my thoughts and worries. Nobody else need be any the wiser.

Except for Max, apparently, who stops my ascent with a firm grip on my arm. “Not so fast, baby.” He sips his coffee, his hold on my arm never wavering.

“Now,” he says slowly, setting his mug down, “why are you agitated? Are you no longer wanting to remain here with me?”

Javier watches with wide, unblinking eyes. He doesn’t appear shocked, more like he’s taking mental notes. My list of questions just doubled.

“Jenna?” Max prompts impatiently.

“I’m not the one saying getting married isn’t a great idea,” I point out acerbically.

Max’s expression softens. He stands, his firm grip on my arm pulling me up too. “Excuse us, Javier.” And with that, I’m hustled out of the kitchen and back upstairs to Max’s bedroom.

Max sets me down on the bed and then looms over me, his weight physically anchored by his long arms braced either side of me on the bed, but it’s really his eyes that are pinning me in place. “Jenna, I can see that nothing short of the truth will satisfy your inquisitive little brain. But in exchange, I’m going to require a promise that you not run away.”

My brow furrows. “Why would I run away? You aren’t deformed, although even if you were, I love you too much to care.”

Max’s gaze softens. “You love me?”

I nod hesitantly. Not because I’m unsure, but I thought he knew that already. “Would I still be here if I didn’t?”

His lips quirk. “Interest isn’t the same as love, baby. You know this.”

I sigh. “Let’s not get into words now. What’s this truth you think will send me out the door?”

Max hesitates for a long moment. “I can explain it or I can demonstrate. Which would you prefer?” His right hand is on the button of his jeans. I lick my lips.

“Oh, a demonstration, definitely.” I smirk up at the man who holds all my heart and who seems inexplicably nervous about his own body, which makes absolutely no sense.

Max swallows hard. My concern deepens. This is not a man who exhibits insecurities about his body or his choices. Only mine, apparently. What the hell is he so afraid of?

His jeans and boxers disappear silently and I’m left staring at a perfectly respectable, if not slightly generous, set of male genitalia. No complaints so far and nothing looks out of the ordinary either. I raise a questioning eyebrow once I can tear my lascivious gaze away to look him in the eye.

Max pulls me to my feet, then reaches for my jeans, but I stop him briefly. “Hey, why is your shirt still on? I want the full experience.”

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