Page 66 of Unapologetic Obsession
I plastered on what I hoped was a convincing smile. “Much better. Thank you.”
The ointment and medication weren’t miracle treatments, but he wouldn’t let me out of bed if I said I was in pain. At least the swelling had decreased. I patiently waited for him to come to the same conclusion.
When he was satisfied with the progress, he grabbed the room service menu from the nightstand and ordered breakfast over the phone. I used the opportunity to pick up the robe from the ground and draped it around my shoulders.
I hobbled to the bathroom and turned on the sink. The stream wasn’t loud enough to drown out my thoughts.
What the hell was going on?
I knew Caden Maxwell. He was my professor but kissed me like he was my boyfriend. Why did he conceal his identity and our relationship to one another?
I didn’t have the answers, and I couldn’t confront him, either. Not when I was vulnerable and completely at his mercy. The staff bowed down to him, and even Amelie acted like his minion. He was the law on this boat, and no one would save me if my accusations made him volatile.
Then I remembered his interaction with Jace, who had tried taking the heat for me. Perhaps there was one person on this boat who wasn’t under the doctor’s thumb. We had a five-minute conversation and hadn’t exactly laid down the foundation for a lifelong friendship. Confiding in him was a big gamble, but I was trapped on this boat with no one else to turn to. Until I spoke to him or figured out the extent of my past with Dr. Maxwell, I needed to stay on guard.
I used the facilities, brushed my teeth, and washed my face with a cleanser. The aesthetician had left behind an entire beauty line in the medical suite, and I was surprised to find out they had mysteriously migrated to Dr. Maxwell’s bathroom. There were numerous items, including a serum, moisturizer, eye cream, and sunscreen. I used all the products to extend my time in the bathroom until I heard a knock on the door.
“Food’s here,” Dr. Maxwell called out from the other side of the door.
The words were music to my ears, and I was already salivating. Even the fear of my possible killer couldn’t keep me away from food. With a deep breath, I opened the door and found him with a small trolley laden with covered dishes. He had put on a pair of sweatpants, his chest still bare. He looked nothing like the professional doctor from yesterday in a white coat. It looked like we were at home, and he was cozy. Intimate, like a person deeply familiar with me.
My eyes involuntarily lingered on his torso. It wasn’t my fault that his looks muddied my mind every damn time. A woman awaiting execution at the gallows would be just as stumped by him. I wasn’t embellishing his beauty. If anything, I wasn’t doing him justice because I was wary about the wholehe might have tried to murder medilemma.
He licked his bottom lip, studying me in the thick robe. The way he stared, you would think it was the most revealing articleof clothing rather than a plush robe with zero suggestive value. Worse yet, his eyes, the two bottomless pits of the ocean, had a sliver of warmth in them.
In what hellish dimension was Dr. Maxwell warm? An unprompted grunt from him was generally a struggle.
I watched him carry the plates to the breakfast table on the large terrace. Dr. Maxwell’s movements were precise, with the underlying attentiveness in everything he did. Wind whipped my hair against my face as I followed him outside and peeked at the blue water surrounding us. It was the most breathtaking view I had seen. I closed my eyes and breathed in the salty water and basked in the sun until my nerves calmed down.
The smell of warm spices filled the air as he uncovered the dishes, and I forgot about the beautiful ocean. My stomach grumbled, and I eyed the items curiously. I would never take food for granted after my experience on the streets, even if it were served by a possible monster who put me in this predicament.
Like yesterday, there was a muffin with breakfast. When he caught me staring at it, he offered it to me.
“Thank you,” I murmured, and took an aggressive bite out of it, savoring the blueberry bits.
His blue eyes flicked to mine, another ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He sat across from me and patted his knee. “Come here.”
Irritation gnawed at me. This man knew me intimately but had been pretending like we had never met. It was a cruel trick to play on someone suffering from memory loss. Even if he wasn’t the monster from my dreams, he knew my family and my friends and was intentionally keeping them from me. And now he wanted me to sit on his lap like an obedient dog?
I had been complacent thus far, letting him feed me and do with me as he pleased. The intimate gestures that made me feel cherished previously made me feel utterly powerless today.
When I still hadn’t moved, he opened his arm invitingly. “Did you hear me? I said, come here.”
His left eye twitched. He didn’t like my refusal, and the look on his face seemed like an ominous threat. I sighed. As much as I wanted to stick it to him for lying, I couldn’t escape the reality of my situation. There was nowhere to hide on the open water. If I were truly on the run from Dr. Maxwell, it would be wiser to play along.
“Yes, Dr. Maxwell.” I hesitantly sat on his thigh. His stupid, rock-hard, perfect thigh.
For the first time today, he seemed annoyed. Perhaps I was heavier than I thought and started to rise from his lap. With an arm banded around me, he pulled me back down. “Don’t call me that,” he reproached, annoyed.
I frowned. “Call you what?”
“I spent half the night with my tongue inside you. It’s time you called me by my first name, don’t you think?”
My cheeks burned at the sordid comment, though his demand to call him by his first name stole the spotlight. He sounded on the brink of losing his patience when this was the first time he had voiced the complaint.
Or was it?
He was my professor, so it was unlikely I had called him by his first name. Had he made this request before I lost my memories? Perhaps I didn’t agree to it because I wanted to keep him at arm’s length, and he didn’t take kindly to it.
