Page 89 of Maxim

“You don’t have to.” He starts to protest, but I wave him off.

“You had a hard day. Let me take care of you the way you take care of me,” I tell him.

He looks conflicted but nods.

I make up two plates and bring them to the table. Then I go back into the kitchen to grab two glasses of water. When I settle at the table next to Maxim, he reaches out and grabs my hand.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

We eat in silence, the only sounds being the silverware on the plates. Once we are both done, I stand and grab our plates, taking them to the sink.

Maxim follows me. “Let me clean up.”

I shake my head. “You look tired. Go get ready for bed. I’ll be in soon.”

He sighs. “I don’t know if I like you bossing me around.”

I cringe. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. You just take such good care of me and…”

I’m cut off by his lips on mine. When he finally pulls back, he lets his forehead fall to mine.

“It was a joke, Olena. Only a joke. I’m sorry. I’m just fucking up today.” His eyes close as he holds me close.

I breathe in his scent of Italian bergamot, neroli blossom. and fresh vetiver. It calms me.

“I’m sorry too. I will be better,” I promise him.

He cups my cheek. “I want you to be who you are. To me, there is nothing better.”

When he says words like this, it makes me think that I can trust him. I can believe the words he says. I still have a long way to go, but each day with Maxim makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.

“Let’s wash these together and get ready for bed together. Okay? I want to be close to you,” he admits.

I nod, unable to speak.

I want to be close to him too.

Quickly, we wash the dishes and put away the remaining food. Once the kitchen is wiped down, he grabs my hand, leadingme toward the bedroom. We separate, each grabbing our sleep clothes. He waves me toward the bathroom, indicating I can change in there.

He’s so considerate. He never makes me change in front of him, even though I no longer am afraid of it. In fact, the closer we get, the more I want to explore the things that used to scare me.

Once I’m changed and freshened up, I head to bed. I smile when I see he is already in it without a shirt. I climb in beside him, cuddling up on his chest, my ear against his skin. The sound of his heart thumping is so soothing. It is my favorite sound.

His hands fall to my hair, caressing it softly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask gently.

“I don’t want you to look at me differently,” he admits.

“I could never,” I reassure him.

“You say that, but you have once before. You can again. I can’t risk that. We are moving forward, and I don’t want anything to ruin that.”

“That was before I knew you. I know who you are now. You are a good man. You do what you say you will do. You treat me well. There’s nothing you can say that will take that away.”

“Even if I tell you I had to take women to your father today for auction?”