Page 13 of BillionHeir

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Maxwell

It has been four weeks since that shower with Chloe.

Despite my intense attraction to her, I have managed to keep the past month strictly professional between us. I thought I would eventually lose interest like I usually do with women, but if anything, my desire for her has only grown. It is starting to become a problem.

With the passage of time, I have also started to heal.

I no longer need help in the bathroom, thankfully.

I am able to get in and out of bed on my own and have even started to do a little bit of work.

Nothing too strenuous of course, just answering a few emails and signing contracts, that sort of thing.

It has been nice to feel like I am starting to get back into the swing of things, but the truth is, Ethan is still doing the majority of the work.

Before my accident, I used to work from the moment my eyes opened in the morning until the late hours of the night.

My days were filled with emails, phone calls, and meetings, while my evenings were often busy with different events and functions where I networked and schmoozed my business partners. My work was never really done.

But the helicopter accident, and the injuries I sustained, have forced me to slow down.

Such a thought would have once been abhorrent to me.

Now that I can’t work as much, I am finding I enjoy the slower pace.

All the calls and messages that I used to receive have been forwarded to Ethan, and he needs me less and less as he takes on the role that I used to fill.

A role I once foolishly thought could only be done by me, as arrogant as that sounds.

There was a time in my life when I would have balked at the thought of someone else trying to fill my shoes.

I wanted everyone to know that I could step into my father’s role seamlessly.

For many years, I have done just that. I kept my head down and my nose to the grindstone, determined to honor the Banks family name by leading the company my father built to international success .

I succeeded beyond my own expectations, using my inheritance to become one of the wealthiest men in the world.

But in the process, I also became a lonely man.

I barely have time to spend with friends.

A serious, committed relationship is completely out of the question.

Numerous women have tried to tame me, to make me want them more than I wanted my career, but none of them have had what it took to really turn my head.

So imagine my surprise when I finally find a woman who I can’t get off my mind, and it turns out that she wants nothing to do with me. Instead, she seems to be actively avoiding me, and I am paying her to be here.

Don’t get me wrong, when it comes to nursing, Chloe has been a consummate professional.

She has made sure that my every need is taken care of, even going so far as to prepare my meals for me, which is definitely not in her job description.

She has taken better care of me in the little time she has been here than my own nanny did when I was a child.

But as soon as her job is done, as soon as she is not needed, she is gone—to work out in the gym, to swim laps in the pool, to read a book in her room, or even more torturous to my imagination, to soak in the huge guest room bathtub.

She can’t get far enough away from me, or so it seems. Even now, while I lie in bed after lunch so that I can ‘get some rest’, I can see her reclining by the pool outside my bedroom window .

She looks too damn good, sitting beside the water in a pair of shorts and an oversized hoodie.

The sun reflects off of the shapely, tan legs she has stretched out in front of her, daintily crossed at the ankle.

I have seen women in all manner of dress, from high fashion and ball gowns to skimpy bikinis and lingerie.

But none of them have turned me on the way Chloe does just by existing.

She could be wearing a damn paper bag and I think I would probably still have a raging hard-on. That is just what she does to me.

It is not because she is attractive, even though she is absolutely gorgeous.

But her personality and the way she cares about the people in her life, which now includes me, makes her better than pretty much everyone else I have ever met.

The more I find out about her, the more I appreciate her, even when I think I couldn’t like her more.

It is not often that I find someone who I admire as much as I have grown to admire Chloe.

Since we have been here, the house seems brighter and more full of life.

It is like her presence has somehow dusted the layers of grief and sorrow off every surface, cleansing the residence of the pain of the past. I have spent quite some time here since my parents passed away, but she is suddenly making me see this place in a whole new light.

Rather than sitting here on my bed and watching her through the window like some kind of voyeur, I grab the book I have been reading and slowly make my way downstairs to join her. I hear her subtle gasp of surprise when I ease down onto the chaise next to her.

I give her a friendly smile before explaining. “It is too nice to stay inside today.”

“I thought so, too. How are you feeling?” It seems like the only thing she ever wants to talk to me about is my health. I shouldn’t complain since I am paying her to be my nurse, but it is getting a little old.

“I am fine,” I snap like a petulant child before opening my book, effectively ending the conversation.

From the corner of my eye, I see her startle at the venom in my tone.

Instead of commenting on it like I expect, she just goes back to reading her own book.

I have never had someone’s silence upset me so much.

It gets under my skin, causing my normal don’t-give-a-fuck-about-anyone-else attitude to completely evaporate. I have no clue how she does it.

I sigh loudly as I try to get into my book, a historical non-fiction about Douglas MacArthur’s military leadership during World War II.

It isn’t exactly light reading, but I always enjoyed learning about this time period.

There is something engaging about the power struggles across the globe and the many lasting consequences that we still see in the world today.

Once I find the place where I left off, I steal a glance over at Chloe.

She looks totally unbothered by me or my bad attitude.

I have to intentionally stop myself from getting worked up by her behavior, forcing myself to focus on my book.

I let the words transport me into the past, to a time when none of my present worries even existed.

I only read one chapter before my eyes get too heavy to hold open any longer.

I put my book down on my chest and succumb to the fatigue.

* * *

I wake to Chloe’s quiet voice saying my name while her soft hand presses gently on my good shoulder.

“Maxwell?”

“Hmm?” I ask, lifting one eyelid enough to see her sitting on the lounge chair with me, looking down with concern.

“You fell asleep. It is quite bright out here. We should probably get you inside before you get sunburnt.”

As I look up at her face, the sun shines around her head like a halo, making her look like an angel.

I can’t help the smile that comes over my face.

This might be the closest she has been to me in two weeks and all I can think about is pulling her down to me for a kiss.

But I am not going to make a move until I am sure that is what she wants.

I like my women willing, and consent is doubly important for a man of my status.

I am surprised when she reaches up and pushes my hair that has grown way too long off of my forehead. Her cool hand rests on my skin for a moment before she pulls it away. I nearly reached up to grab it and put her back before realizing how inappropriate that might be .

I shake my head to clear both the fog of sleep and the haze of lust that has taken over me and push myself up to a sitting position.

“You don’t feel warm, but with your weakened immune system, even the slightest thing could send you back to the hospital.”

A powerful surge of panic runs through my body. Chloe has some idea of how much I hated being at the rehab, but no one truly knows just how awful it was for me there and at the hospital before that. I will do anything I can to avoid going back.

As the adrenaline hits my brain, a flashback suddenly overcomes my thoughts.

I begin to vividly recall what appears to be a trauma bay with bright lights and a chaotic flow of medical staff.

My body is on a gurney, but I am watching as if suspended from above while the doctors and nurses scurry around me.

Somehow, I am keenly aware of the fact that they are all desperately working to save my life.

I watch as a doctor shouts for the defibrillator paddles and a nurse rushes to hand them to him.

He then proceeds to shock me, not just once, but twice, forcing my heart back into a normal rhythm.

I rub my chest as the memory fades, but the pain persists as if I was really back there in the hospital. I look up to find Chloe watching me with concern.

“I can’t go back there, Chloe,” I say, my voice shaking from the powerful memory .

“You are going to be just fine, Maxwell. Let’s just get you up and back inside, okay?”

I concentrate on her soothing voice as she helps me stand from the chair.

She starts to let go of my arm, but I reach out with my other hand and stop her.

Her eyes meet mine and I can see the question on the tip of her tongue.

We both know I am stable enough to walk on my own, but right now, I need her.

I need this.

Words fail me for what feels like the first time in my life. I can’t explain it, but her support, her mere presence, is healing me.

I shouldn’t want her. I shouldn’t need her. But I do.

Time stretches out between us as she seems to debate what to do. She could push me away, continuing to build walls between us when it is clear that I want to knock them down. Or she could let me in.

A few more seconds pass before she visibly relaxes. A small smile spreads across her face, and her rigid shoulders and back loosen ever so slightly. It is enough for me to recognize that she might not be all in, but she is definitely not all out.

Without a word, she starts walking next to me, leaving her hand where it was. I twist my arm so that we are holding hands, threading my fingers between hers. A feeling of rightness comes over me, calming my fears .

Much sooner than I would like, we are inside. She leads me to the sofa and releases my hand once I have sat down.

“Are you hungry?” she asks, not making eye contact.

I sigh, frustrated that she is pulling away yet again. But this time I am determined to push through it.

“I am. Let’s cook together.”

“You cook?” she asks, shooting me a skeptical look.

“I dabble.”

“Is that rich guy speak for ‘no’?”

I tip my head back and laugh out loud.

“Damn, you don’t hold any punches, do you?” I ask once I have collected myself.

“Nope,” she says playfully, before turning around and walking toward the kitchen.

I smile to myself. No one besides Tristan and Liam have the courage to talk back to me like that.

That is one of my favorite things about her.