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“What? How? Why?” Maddie knew she was babbling, but she didn’t have a clue what he was saying.
He opened the door and turned, his expression dark, his eyes turbulent. “It was done on my orders, my arrangement.”
“You can’t just take over my clinic, Hudson. Or my life for that matter,” she snapped at him, furious.
“Somebody needs to and I just did, Sunshine. And that’s just the beginning. Meet me downstairs.” He turned and left, pulling the bedroom door closed behind him.
Maddie was fuming as she entered the bathroom, tempted to chase Sam’s ass down and tell him off. But she needed to prepare herself. He had her so angry right now that she wouldn’t be at all effective at shooting him down in her current mood.
Who the hell was running her clinic? Were they taking good care of the people there? Dammit!
She stripped out of her scrubs and underwear, folding them together in a bundle to take with her when she left, which she planned to do immediately after she dealt with Sam Hudson.
It took her a moment to figure out how to use the fancy shower he had, one that had several showerheads that pulsated hot water over every muscle in her body, a decadent pleasure that made her bite back a moan as she washed her hair and scrubbed her body. Not at all surprised that he had female shower gel and shampoo in his shower, Maddie tried not to think about the gazillion women who had probably done more than just showered with Sam in this room, in this enclosure. Turning the shower off, she reached for a fluffy towel, patting her body dry and applying some lotion from the array of feminine toiletries lining the cupboards.
Clothing was piled on every surface, women’s clothing. And every item still had the tags on them. Come to think of it, everything she had opened was brand new, including the shampoo and conditioner she’d used. Checking the size on a pair of jeans, she noticed that they were her size, as were all the clothes, every item a petite length. Even the new undergarments were her size—except none of the stuff was exactly her style. The underwear was decadent, wisps of silk and lace. The jeans were hip huggers, slimmer cut than she usually wore, cupping her curves and ass tightly when she slipped them on. Ignoring the image in the glass mirrors, she pulled a shirt over her head. It was a tee, but it was short and fit snugly over her breasts.
Oh, to hell with it. I’m changing at the clinic anyway.
She tamed her wild hair with a never-used hairbrush that she had to pull from the package.
No hair clips.
Scrounging through all the new lotions, gels, hairspray, and other assorted items, she found absolutely nothing to secure her riot of curls. With all of the attention Sam had paid to detail, Maddie knew it was intentional. He had never liked her hair pulled back.
Opening one of the medicine cabinets, she smiled evilly, yanking out a package of condoms.
Extra-Large.
Maddie would like to think that Sam having these was a case of wishful thinking, but she knew it wasn’t. She’d felt that erection against her enough times to know he was built big.
Pulling one from the wrapping, she ripped off the top ring and trashed the rest of it in the garbage.
Perfect.
The band was stretchy enough to hold back her mass of curls in a ponytail at her neck.
Now all she needed was coffee and she’d feel human again. Grabbing her shoes from the side of the bed, she trotted down the stairs, having no idea where the kitchen was located. When she got to the bottom of the steps, she looked around, admiring the high cathedral ceiling and the light décor; the color scheme seemed to make everything seem lighter, more airy and cheerful.
She already knew Sam’s home was massive, big enough to host a wedding and reception. Looking to the left, she saw a huge living room. On the right, she saw a massive entryway. Deducing that the kitchen was more likely to be to the right, Maddie wandered in that direction, eager to find a coffee maker. She needed her caffeine fix, and she needed it bad. Her headache had dulled to a slight annoyance, but her addiction to caffeine wasn’t helping. Ignoring several smaller hallways, she followed what looked like a major corridor that might lead to the kitchen.
Yes! Finally!
There was a large arched doorway that led to a kitchen any professional chef would probably envy. And there, in front of the stove, stood Sam, his curls just starting to form as his hair dried, dressed in a snug pair of designer jeans and a polo shirt.
She watched as he filled two plates skillfully, like he actually cooked all the time. Her eyes darted nervously to her handbag that was sitting on the counter, and the paperwork she had carelessly stuffed inside the side pocket now resting underneath it.
She sidled up to the counter, sliding the paperwork from underneath her purse, folding it, and cramming it into the center part of the bag, closing the zipper tightly.
“I already saw them. The papers dropped out of your bag as I was bringing you into the house last night. I found them on the floor this morning.” His voice was low, menacing.
“You read them?” Folding her arms in front of her, she scowled at him, resting one hip against the counter beside him.
“Not intentionally. But I opened them to see what they were. I thought they were papers that I’d dropped myself.” He put the two plates on the kitchen table and pulled out one of the chairs. “You’re not doing it, Maddie. Not now. Not ever,” he told her adamantly. “Now eat.” He sat a large mug of coffee beside her plate, the smell making her salivate.
“Actually, I’m not doing it. I can’t afford it and it isn’t fair to bring a child into the world just because I selfishly want one. I work horrible hours and it wouldn’t be a good thing for a baby. I can adopt in the future. It was just a thought.” She was thirty-four years old, would turn thirty-five this year. Artificial insemination had just been something she wanted to consider. She’d probably never marry, but she wanted a child so badly. She had actually hoped for more than one when she was younger.
She headed for the table, intent on grabbing the coffee. Before she had even taken a step, Sam snagged her arm, bringing her back against the counter, her ass pressed up against the unyielding wood as Sam slapped a muscular arm on each side of her, trapping her with his body. “Just tell me why? Why would you want to do that? Why aren’t you married? Why don’t you already have kids the normal way?” he growled, his intense eyes flashing as he looked down at her face, the muscles in his jaw clenched tightly.