“I’ve missed you, baby,” I murmured, earning a laugh from Mia.
“You and that machine,” she teased, settling beside me. “It’s like watching Romeo with his Juliet.”
“This Juliet holds my life’s work,” I defended, powering it up. Relief flooded through me as it hummed to life—Carlos’ goons might have trashed my apartment that night, but at least they hadn’t destroyed everything.
Mia leaned over, genuine interest sparkling in her eyes. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve been working on.”
The mirror before me was the kind that didn’t lie—it was unforgiving in its clarity, showing me every detail of my still slightly bruised skin. The colors were a canvas of healing—from the deep purples that had started to fade to a sickly green, to the yellowing edges of older injuries. Moving was no longer a greatest hits collection of pain, but a reminder that I was still on the mend.
“Looks like you’ve been on the losing end of a boxing match with a paint mixer,” I muttered to my reflection, fingers trailing gingerly over a bruise on my side. A wince escaped me—not so much from the pain but from the tender memory of how they got there. “Memento from the boys who didn’t get thedon’t hit the facememo,” I added, half-amused and half-irritated.
I stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over me, washing away the residue of those nightmare days. The water stung the more tender spots, but it was a good kind of hurt—the kind that came with healing. I emerged feeling somewhat reborn, the droplets beading off my skin like tiny crystal balls foretelling a brighter future.
Slipping into the clothes Matt’s money had provided felt like donning a new skin. The black pants fit like they were tailored just for me, and the white silk shirt glided over my torso, its soft fabric whispering against my still-sensitive skin. “Nothing saysI survived an abductionlike dressing up for a fancy dinner.” I chuckled dryly to myself.
Next, I reached for the moisturizer—a fancy bottle with a French name. “If I’m going to play billionaire boyfriend,” I quipped to no one in particular, “might as well have the super soft skin to match.” I massaged the cream into my skin with care normally reserved for handling ancient artifacts or newborn kittens.
I buttoned up my shirt and tucked it in meticulously. A final glance at the mirror confirmed that despite everything, Andy Donovan cleaned up pretty damn well—even with a few extra colors added to his palette.
Emerging from the bathroom, the cool air of the penthouse suite greeted me. I took a deep breath, relishing the sharp contrast from the steamy cocoon I had just left behind. As if summoned by the gods of impeccable timing, Matt strode into the room. He was a tower of strength, his presence commanding even in the most mundane moments. I watched him for a second, admiring how he filled out his clothes with a casual elegance that money couldn’t buy—it was innate, a birthright.
He closed the distance between us and pulled me into his arms, one hand settling at the small of my back, fingers splaying possessively. The scent of his cologne, a subtle yet intoxicating blend, mingled with the steam still rising off my skin.
“You smell nice,” he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated in the pit of my stomach. His thumb traced lazy circles against my spine, each movement sending tingles through my body.
I arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips, trying to ignore how his touch was making my skin buzz. “Is that your way of saying I’ve graduated from smelling like a hospital to smelling like a million bucks?”
Matt’s laugh was rich and warm, and it made something inside me flutter with delight. “Something like that,” he replied, his stormy steel-gray eyes sparkling with mischief as his hand slid up my back in a slow caress. “Though I’d say you smell more like a billion bucks, given the price tag on that moisturizer you just used.”
I gasped in mock horror, placing a hand over my heart, even as his other hand found its way to my hip, fingers drumming a distracting rhythm against my silk shirt. “You mean to tell me that the great Matt Caine, billionaire extraordinaire, actually pays attention to the cost of skincare products?”
He shrugged, a roguish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
“Clearly,” I retorted, my voice slightly breathless as his touch sent warmth spreading through my body. “I suppose next you’ll be telling me you’ve got a secret passion for scrapbooking and knitting tea cozies.”
Matt’s laughter echoed through the room, a sound I’d never tire of hearing. His hand moved to the nape of my neck, fingers threading through my damp hair. “Careful, pet,” he warned playfully, giving my hair a gentle tug that made my breath catch, “or I might just have to demonstrate some of my other hidden talents.”
The heat in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine, and I found myself leaning into his touch, craving more.
“How was your day in the empire?” I asked, trying to keep the mood light despite the electricity crackling between us. His fingers had found their way under my collar, tracing the sensitive skin there in a way that made it hard to focus.
“The usual,” he said with a nonchalant shrug, his hands sliding down to my waist again, thumbs drawing maddening circles against my hip bones through the silk shirt. “Making money, expanding empires, creating jobs.” His lips curled into a smirk as he pulled me closer, our bodies flush against each other. “And maybe firing a few undeserving souls.”
His casual mention of such power amused me to no end. I grinned, my fingers tracing the line of buttons on his crisp dress shirt, feeling the solid warmth of his chest beneath. “So, you’re like a deity in a suit, then?”
He nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as his hands roamed up my sides, leaving trails of heat in their wake. “I suppose I am. It used to weigh on me, all those lives in my hands. But now…” he trailed off, his eyes holding a depth of experience I was only beginning to understand. His touch gentled, becoming almost reverent as his fingers traced the outline of my jaw.
That stunned me. Matt had always been this unshakeable force—steady as a mountain. To think there was a time when he wasn’t Mr. Hardcore Businessman was… jarring. His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, momentarily derailing my thoughts.
“What changed?” I asked softly, my fingers stilling on his chest, feeling his heartbeat strong and steady beneath my palm.
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant as if he were reliving a memory. One hand slid up my back, coming to rest between my shoulder blades, holding me close. “I learned that power isn’t about control,” he said finally, his voice low and thoughtful. “It’s about responsibility. About using what you have to make a difference, no matter how small.”
I stared at him, seeing him in a new light. This was a side of Matt I’d never seen before—a glimpse behind the polished veneer of the ruthless tycoon. It made my heart ache in a way Icouldn’t quite describe. His hand moved to cup the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair.
“I think I’m starting to understand that,” I murmured, my hand coming up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing against the slight stubble there. “You’re not just a pretty face with a fat wallet, are you?”
He chuckled, leaning into my touch as his other hand slipped beneath my shirt to stroke the small of my back. “Don’t let the secret out,” he teased. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
