Page 51 of BillionHeir
But I don’t expect that Maxwell wants to help with any of my baggage. I am a grown woman, and I will continue to lug it around the way I have done, won’t I?
I am not foolish enough to think that having sex means that he wants to marry me. Far from it actually. Men like Maxwell Banks don’t settle down with common women like me. Things like that just don't happen. That is the stuff of fairy tales, and I would do well to remember that.
But a girl can dream, can’t she?
Chapter 19
_______________________
Maxwell
“What do you want?”
“How about signs of life? You have been holed up in that house so long that we were starting to wonder if you were ever coming back to the city.”
“It is called recuperating, Tristan,” I say deadpan.
“It is not like you got into a helicopter accident or anything. Isn’t it time you got back to work? Surely Banks International needs their lead manat his desk.”
I appreciate my friend finally feeling comfortable enough to taunt me the way our group of friends always has.
“Actually, it seems like Ethan has everything under control,” I answer, staring at the empty email inbox on the computer in my home office.
“You are just going to let him replace you like that? Take over everything that your father created and passed down to you?”
I know he is just trying to rile me up, but something about what he says hits a nerve. I have been enjoying my recovery and the down time that I have had since I have been away from work, but I am certainly not ready to let another man take over complete control. Maybe a call to Ethan should be on the agenda for the day.
“What do you want?” I ask, redirecting the conversation.
“Liam and I have some free time this weekend. We would like to drive up to Seabanks for a visit. If you will have us, that is.”
“Could I stop you if I tried?”
Tristan lets out a jovial laugh, completely ignoring my question. “There is the asshole I know. We will see you in a couple of days.”
He ends the call before I have time to answer. I set my phone down on my desk and stare out the window at the clear blue sky. The storm from last night is long gone and the sun is out and shining. It is almost as if it never happened.
But it did.
How am I going to tell the guys?
I will never hear the end of it if they find out that I actually slept with my nurse.
* * *
When I come downstairs after pretending to work all afternoon, Chloe has cooked a meal fit for a Michelin star restaurant. Fresh salads are plated with small cups of dressing on the side. Next to those on separate plates is a decadent-looking lobster risotto with grilled asparagus. And she is placing the final touches on what looks like homemade macarons.
“Wow,” is all I can think to say at the spread that has taken over the island in the kitchen.
Chloe’s cheeks pinken slightly as she dusts her hands on her apron and reaches behind her to untie the knot. I hastily close the distance between us and undo it for her. Anything for the chance to touch her. My fingers graze the small of her back as I deftly release the knot. My fingertips brush the side of her neck when I reach up to take the apron the rest of the way off, loving the way the blush in her cheeks deepens at the contact.
It would be so easy to push her against the counter and continue to undress her, but I am a gentleman, and she deserves a man who can control himself. I ball my free hand into a fist at my side as I hang the apron on the hook.
She is still my nurse and therefore my employee. It would be wrong. She came out here for work, not for a relationship. It would be best for everyone if we kept things platonic between us.
If only my dick could get the memo.
“Is everything alright?” Chloe asks after a quiet dinner together. “You were in your office all afternoon.”
