Page 59 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
Chapter Fifteen
Maxim leads me to the terrace but doesn’t follow me inside. “Sleep,” he says. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning. I’ll make the arrangements.”
I don’t bother to ask him what “arrangements” could be made alone, outside in the middle of the night. Despite our breakthrough, I know better than to push for more.
So I enter the master suite alone, though I don’t sleep. Eventually, I wind up in the shower and linger there for hours until dawn finally paints the horizon.
When I creep downstairs to find two suitcases near the door, Ifinallyrisk hoping that last night wasn’t a fluke. For once, we might have communicated beyond sex.
Unscathed by the recent chaos, the kids are already awake and out on the terrace, still wearing pajamas.
“Are we leaving already?” Ainsley whines the second I join them, fully dressed. “But we’re having so much fun!”
“Your sister and I are leaving,” Maxim says. I jump and turn to find him exiting the house behind me. His outfit alone signifies the end of his vacation. The customary suit has made a reappearance, a striking shade of ebony. “We all would be returning to the city today, but the gas leak damaged the other house. Do you trust your sister to find a better one?”
Mikie mockingly rolls his eyes. “I guess.”
“You have one more week of paradise,” Maxim adds. “Then I’m afraid it’s back to reality.”
He steps back a respectful distance so I can say goodbye to the kids one by one. When I reach Daisy, I wrap my arms around her, but say near her ear, “Whatever you might think of me. It doesn’t matter. I still love you. But that also means I expect more from you. Watch out for Ainsley and make sure she cleans up properly. Got it?”
She nods.
“Sir,” Lucius calls from the doorway. “The pilot is ready.”
Maxim nods and places his hand on my lower back. “We’re on our way.”
Together we travel through the house and exit from the front door to find a black car already waiting out front. Maxim leads the way and ushers me inside before settling beside me. His hand finds mine, interlacing our fingers.
And with that, we return to the real world.
* * *
My second planeride unfolds a bit more memorably than the first. Like everything in Maxim’s world, his private jet is nothing short of impressive. Custom leather recliners are comfortably spaced around the climate-controlled cabin, conveying an aura primarily for business over pleasure. The overall color scheme isn’t surprising given Maxim’s tastes—black and gray with modern accents.
“We will need to move,” he says. His voice conveys a sense of calm that contrasts sharply with his tense, stiff posture. Poised on the very edge of his seat, he keeps eyeing the silver watch on his wrist, his gaze turned inward. But for whatever reason, I recognize his attempts at conversation for what they are—a stab at maintaining our fragile sense of normalcy. “And quickly,” he adds. “I’ll leave the house hunting up to you, this time. You’ll start tomorrow. I have a real estate agent I can connect you with. He works fast, and the cost is no option.”
I raise an eyebrow. Compared to the danger looming overhead, house hunting sounds like a rather unusual priority. Not to mention the time frame. “Can you really buy a new house in a week?” I ask, the most innocent of questions to probe him with.
Something that could be a laugh trickles out of him, and he sits back. “Ican buy a house in a week. But you will need to arrange the furniture as well. For everyone—” Sitting back, his hand falls over the end of my armrest, but he doesn’t reach for one of mine. “I don’t think I’ll have the time to assist you…” He spares another glance at his watch. When he faces me again, his expression is strained, though he flashes a lethal grin as if to disguise the unease. “I have a list of non-negotiable items I require, however. I’ll leave it up to you as to how to disguise them.”
My head swims at the thought of it—for the first time, I’m the one responsible for the manic move and décor. As well as stocking our sex room, apparently.
The termdomesticis turning out to have a surprising amount of new meanings when it comes to him.
“The kids will stay with us?” I ask next.
His slow nod is all the confirmation required.
Relieved, I sink back into the leather cushions of my recliner. His responses so far make me bold enough to risk letting a more direct question slip out. “What about your grandfather?”
He stiffens, and I nearly kick myself for bringing up that dilemma too soon.
“I will handle him,” he snaps. “Parading you beneath his nose so soon would not be my preferred course of action… But he will not be so bold as to attack me out in the open. As for the others? I can handle them as well.”
Such as the mysterious Danil, whom Milton mentioned.
“Why did you bring me, really?” I can’t resist leaning toward him to brush my fingers along his forearm. He lets me trace a path from his shoulder all the way down to his wrist before he grabs my hand in return.
