Page 37 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
Maxim grunts in acknowledgment, but he doesn’t turn his attention from two workers currently setting up some kind of machinery.
“He was insistent, sir,” Lucius adds. “He said if you didn’t return his call by this evening—and he specifically accounted for the time difference—then he would, and I quote, ‘take matters into my own hands.’”
“I’ll handle him,” Maxim says, still surveying the surrounding activity. When his eyes find me, he stiffens. “That will be all, Lucius.”
“Yes, sir.” Lucius nods and crosses the terrace, entering the house.
Alone, Maxim says nothing, but he doesn’t turn away. An odd feeling thickens my throat as I take a tentative step in his direction. Gratitude? Guilt? I only make it halfway to him when another voice rings out.
“Frankie?” I bite back a groan as Ainsley spots me from near the carousel and races over. The closer she comes, however, the more relieved I feel. Her eyes are bright, a crooked smile shaping her mouth. “Do you see? There’s ice cream!” She excitedly points to a booth across the lawn, staffed by a smiling server. “Can I have some now, even if it’s breakfast?”
“Yeah… Just this once.” I let her take my hand and follow her over. Not only is the ice cream booth fully stocked, but with an impressively vast selection. So much money must have gone into this. And effort.
I remember something Lucius said in the car after collecting us from the airport.Everything is in place.
Were they in on this together?
“I don’t know which one,” Ainsley whines, drawing my attention back to her. “There’s so many. I can’t pick!”
I crouch beside her, reading the advertised flavors. “Just pick whichever one you like the best, baby.”
“Or…” It’s only when a deeper voice replies that I realize she wasn’t talking to me. “You can try more than one.” Maxim stands nearby, just beyond physical reach—and I can finally put a name to his tone.Cautious.“As many as you like.”
“Really? Okay!” Beaming, Ainsley turns to the server and proceeds to order a cone topped with five different flavors. The resulting creation is a massive stack she struggles to hold upright. After a few careful licks, she turns to Maxim and flashes a crooked grin. “Yummy! Which one is your favorite?”
“I don’t know.” His dark eyes scan the ice cream menu, devoting far more attention to the deliberation of dessert flavors than I suspect he usually would.“I admit that I’ve never tried it.”
“What? No ice cream? Never?” Ainsley’s eyes go bug-wide as melted chocolate dribbles down her chin. “You should try vanilla, right, Frankie? It’s my favorite, and it’s the safest bet—”
“Ainsley!” Mikie shouts from across the yard. He, Daisy, Eric, and the twins stand before a toy shooting range, complete with a selection of stuffed animal prizes. “Come see this! I’ll win ya whatever you want.”
“I want that bear!” All thoughts of ice cream forgotten, she races off, a different girl from this morning.
Four months of progress in four minutes. I know this won’t last, but still… A wave of gratitude nearly knocks me over. I have to grip the edge of the ice cream counter for balance. In an instant, I sense a presence nearby, and someone’s hand brushes my shoulder.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”Damn.My voice echoes back to me, so fucking bitchy. “I’m sorry.” But should I be? In frustration, I rip my hands through my hair. “I mean, I’m sorry for what I said last night. But I have to think about what’s best for—”
“I could leave now,” Maxim suggests. There’s no anger in his voice. It’s not a threat, but an offer. “Say it, and I will be on the next plane within the hour. You can stay here.”
Herein paradise, freed from his presence. But would the distance prevent another attack in the name of his grandfather?
“I…” My mouth is suddenly too dry to speak. I have to moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue, weighing my potential answer. And as I do, Lucius’ words come back to haunt me once again.He can handle rejection…
“Ainsley thinks you can protect her,” I rasp, jerking my head in her direction. I could blame her newfound attitude on the random carnival—but that’s not it. My sister isn’t that fucking fickle. In the presence of Maxim, she feels safe for whatever reason. Safe enough to let her guard down. “Can you?” I demand. “Can you let her get attached to you without revealing what you do in your spare time? Can you give her stability—and you know I’m not talking about an army of strangers with guns camped outside our house, or a million fancy mansions. I come withthem. All of them. Do you really understand what that means? You won’t open up to me—” Gritting my teeth, I choke down my own hurt in favor of what really matters. “But can you include them into your world? If you can’t, then maybe it’s best if…”
“If?” His eyes narrow a fraction, fathomless in the sunlight. The more seconds of silence that tick by, the dizzier I become. My chest feels tight, like my heart might explode after the events of the past forty-eight hours.
Should he leave? Stay? I’m on the verge of deciding either way when a guttural voice cuts the tension.
“I will try vanilla,” Maxim declares. He’s speaking to the server, apparently to order a single scoop of ice cream on a cone.
My breath sticks in my throat at the sight. For a man who can wield a chisel as a weapon, it’s nearly impossible to fathom how awkward he looks now. He eyes the cone warily as if skeptical of the purpose of dessert as a whole. Regardless, he brings it to his mouth anyway.
“I confess that I never found the appeal of the concept,” he says, this time to me. “Vanilla.” His tone betrays a different context for that word, far beyond ice cream.
Without elaborating, he extends his tongue. At the same time, his eyes flick up to mine, and something inside me tightens. I choke down a lump in my throat, incapable of reading his expression. Not even as he tilts his hand, silently offering the cone to me.
