by Erika Wilde
When the soup thickened and steam rose from the pot, she took a deep breath of the scent, closed her eyes, and moaned in pure pleasure. She glanced up at the camera, smiling. “I know you’re probably a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy, but this is going to be delicious with the garlic toast I’m making and you’re missing out.”
His stomach growled hungrily, echoing Arabella’s sentiment as she ladled the soup into a bowl, retrieved the garlic toast from the oven, and sat down with her meal at the counter, facing the camera. The impulse to join her was overwhelmingly strong . . . not just for the food, but to enjoy her company in person. The past hour of watching her, listening to her joke and tease despite the less-than-ideal circumstances he’d put her in made his respect for her grow exponentially.
He wanted to spend time with her—an anomaly for him when it came to women in general—but he was smart enough to know that sitting beside Arabella while they shared dinner was just as tempting and dangerous as touching her.
But that didn’t stop her from continuing her one-sided conversation with him, or Maddux from listening.
She lifted a spoonful of soup to her pursed lips and blew on the hot liquid before taking the bite, her gaze lifting back up to the camera. “I don’t know how much you know about me. I’m sure a security guy like you can find out anything on anyone at the snap of your fingers, and considering who I am, I’m sure you have a file full of information on me,” she said wryly.
Yes, he did. Right in the desk drawer next to where he was sitting. But somehow, Maddux suspected he was about to get a more intimate insight to Arabella Cole, and all his attention was focused on her.
“But from my personal account, and not from some impersonal private investigator’s perspective, my life in general has been fairly boring, predictable and . . . lonely.” Her voice dropped to a more somber tone as she absently dipped her bread into her soup. “My mother died when I was five, and even though I knew my father cared about me, he mostly showed it in tangible things that didn’t really matter to me. Not when I wanted his attention the most. But I suppose he didn’t really know what to do with a little girl, and I’d like to think he did the best he could, given the circumstances.”
Maddux refused to feel any kind of empathy toward Theodore, but he couldn’t deny the compassion he felt toward Arabella. He knew what it was like to lose a parent, the void it left, and the pain that might have dulled over time but still existed. The fact that they’d shared that same experience, even if their parents’ deaths had been vastly different, softened something inside of him.
“I think it was just easier for him to enroll me in an all-girls boarding school so he didn’t have to worry about me, but I hated feeling so sheltered and confined. And I was scared a lot of the time, too, so I’d go to the school library and find a quiet corner and read for hours after class and on the weekends.” A small smile touched the corner of her mouth as she swallowed a spoonful of soup. “I've always been an introvert, because it was much easier and safer to just stay in my own little bubble. I always had my nose in a book, and I loved all the classics. Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, Nathaniel Hawthorne. The characters in those books were like my best friends.”
She pushed her spoon through the remnants of her soup, seemingly lost in thought. “It’s really no surprise that I focused on a degree in English literature in college, then went on to get my master’s in library science. And now, I work at the university library as a digital data analyst and curator. I know it doesn’t sound exciting, but I really love my job . . . I just wish I felt the same way about other aspects of my life,” she said, so quietly he had to strain to hear her.
“But . . . I’m trying to change that,” she said, injecting an upbeat tone to her voice. “I’m asserting myself more instead of letting my father or Gavin dictate what I should do or how I should act, and that feels really good.” She lifted her gaze back up to the camera, an impish grin on her lips. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t always rebellious or stubborn or sassy. But I like the new and improved me . . . and I think you like it, too.”
Yeah, he did, he thought with a smile. He liked it, and her, way too much.
She set her spoon in her empty bowl and rested her arms on the counter, her expression soft and beautiful and honest. “I just want you to know, I have no regrets about what I did last night. Not because I saved my father . . . because I’m starting to believe that I don’t know my father all that well . . . but because you, Maddux Wilder, are the most exciting, thrilling adventure I’ve ever experienced, and I’m not sure I want it to end anytime soon.”
That statement, so genuine and pure, stole his breath and wreaked havoc with Maddux’s goddamn emotions, filling him with feelings he’d thought were dead and buried and impossible to resurrect. He didn’t want to care about Arabella, but he couldn’t deny that she’d cracked something open inside of him and it was already happening. The pull toward her, the growing connection, was undeniable, and it scared the fuck out of him because he didn’t do emotions, and more importantly, they had no chance at a future together. Not once he let her go, and not after he devastated her father’s life.
Then there would only be hatred. Which was why he had to keep his distance.
Chapter 14
The next morning, Arabella woke up in Maddux’s bed alone, and she couldn’t ignore the twist of disappointment at that discovery. But as she glanced over at the empty space beside hers, finding the covers and his pillow still neat and orderly, she realized that he must have slept elsewhere. So yes, she was bummed, but she couldn’t say she was surprised. Not after the way he’d holed himself up in his office all night long in his attempt to ignore her.
Refusing to start the day being mopey over something that was beyond her control, she got out of bed and headed right for the camera mounted in the corner of the bedroom, red light on. He had the ability to spy on her from every angle in the apartment, and she could only assume that he was watching her.
Uncaring that her hair was a tangled mess and she probably looked completely rumpled, she put her hands on her hips and looked up at the lens. “Good morning, Maddux,” she said cheerfully. “You know, you could have slept in your own bed last night. I would have behaved and kept my hands to myself, if that was your concern. I swear I wouldn’t have taken advantage of you or your incredible body. At least, not unless you wanted me to.” She grinned cheekily.
The one thing she’d learned while cooking dinner by herself and talking to Maddux via the security cameras the evening before was that speaking to an inanimate object gave her a sense of freedom to be open and honest without having to worry about couching her words or thoughts, which was why she’d been so candid when talking about her childhood and her life in general last night. Because she wanted Maddux to know the real Arabella Cole, who was more than just Theodore’s daughter. The woman with goals and hopes and dreams. The woman with needs and desires and fantasies she wanted to explore with him. She’d been truthful when she’d confessed that he was the most exciting, thrilling adventure she’d ever experienced.
Speaking to Maddux through the camera meant he wasn’t there in person to turn hot and cold on a dime or give her an annoyed scowl if she said something he didn’t like . . . or walk away when their attraction came to a head. It offered her the ability to break down his barriers, with no argument or dismissive attitude from him.
“So, what is the second hardest thing in the morning?” she asked, just to inject some humor into the beginning of the day and be a little naughty with him. She let a few seconds pass before delivering the punch line. “Getting up!”
She laughed at her own joke and imagined him groaning at the silly pun. “I know that was really cheesy, but it was off the top of my head and spur-of-the-moment and the best I could do. I promise to brush up on my one-liners.”
Leaving him on that note, she walked into the bathroom and shut the door, and at least she had privacy in there as she used the facilities, brushed her teeth,
did her hair and makeup, and got ready for her workday. Once she was changed into a dress and heels, she grabbed her phone from where it was charging on the nightstand and headed into the kitchen.
She poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe that Maddux must have left heating for her, then found a piece of paper with a scrawled note on it. I made you an omelet for breakfast. It’s in the refrigerator and you just need to heat it up in the microwave. He’d signed the message with a bold M.
The fact that he’d thought about her in any capacity made Arabella ridiculously happy. She glanced up at the security camera pointing toward the kitchen and smiled. “Thank you, Maddux. That was incredibly sweet of you.” She’d deliberately used the word sweet, just because she knew it would probably annoy him, when he undoubtedly thought of himself as anything but that.
As she warmed up what looked to be a yummy and fluffy ham and cheese omelet, she scrolled through her text messages . . . discovering at least another dozen new ones from Gavin since yesterday, which she ignored like all the rest. And damn, it felt good not to have to answer to him for anything.
She was surprised to find a different message with the name Maddux attached to it, which read, Milo is driving you to work this morning and will be your security detail for the day. He’ll meet you on the first floor at 7:30 a.m.
She blinked at the message, realizing that at some point Maddux had to have come into the room while she’d been sleeping to text himself her number from her cell phone, which enabled her to reach him in return.
She couldn’t resist provoking him. Will I get in trouble if I ditch him?
Try it and see, came his quick reply.
She leaned against the counter, grinning as she typed out another teasing retort. That sounds like a dare, Mr. Wilder, and depending on the punishment, I might be tempted . . .
She could almost hear his low, sexy growl as three dancing bubbles appeared on her screen while he formulated his carefully controlled response. Take it however you like. You agreed to my rules, and one of them is security at all times.
Even his text sounded so stern, and it definitely wasn’t the inviting or seductive reply she’d been hoping for. Then again, he was dead set on being hands-off with her when she wanted his hands on her again. Everywhere.
She took a quick bite of her delicious omelet before delivering another wisecrack. Security . . . as in you spying on me with all these cameras? She looked up at the lens and stuck out her tongue playfully at him.
Just keeping an eye on my asset to make sure you keep out of trouble, brat.
She rolled her eyes up at him, realizing that she could have been talking directly to Maddux, rather than texting all this time. “Unfortunately, there is no trouble to be had here in your penthouse,” she said in a wry tone as she set her phone face up on the counter and ate more of her breakfast. “But it’s nice to know I’m not talking to myself.”
Her phone buzzed and she glanced at his next incoming text. Have a good day at work, Bella.
“Maddux . . .” She beamed up at the camera and placed a hand on her chest. “That’s two nice things you’ve done for me in one morning. Making me breakfast and wishing me a good day at work. I do believe there’s a chance of reforming you after all.”
Her phone vibrated on the counter. Don’t count on it, sweetheart. You have ten minutes to get your ass downstairs.
She could easily imagine Maddux speaking those gruff words in that bossy, stern voice of his that made her panties damp and aroused her way too much. Which was crazy, since Gavin was plenty overbearing and all she’d ever felt toward his imperious attitude was irritation and displeasure.
Feeling naughty and wanting to stir a bit of Maddux’s baser desires and give him something to rev his motor for the day, she playfully, obediently saluted him. “Yes, sir! I’m heading down right now.”
Less than ten minutes later, she met up with Milo on the main level of the building, in the designated lobby area. The man was good-looking and about the same age as Maddux if she had to guess.
When they reached the black BMW he drove, he opened the passenger door for her and she slid inside, grateful that he wasn’t making her sit in the backseat. On the drive to work, at least Milo was personable and talked to her, but any conversation about his employer, Maddux Wilder, was off-limits. Clearly, he was a loyal and trusted staff member for MadX-Tech who valued his job, and Arabella respected his fealty.
Mondays were always busy at the university library, which Arabella was grateful for because it kept her mind occupied and off of Maddux. Between research she had to get done, outstanding preservation projects that needed her attention, and a staff meeting that lasted most of the afternoon, the hours passed quickly.
Like most of her lunch breaks, instead of going out to a nearby restaurant with colleagues, she ordered something quick and easy from the campus dining area that could be delivered and eaten at her desk while she worked. While she was friendly with her co-workers, being the introvert that she was and always had been, those relationships were mostly superficial. A few of the women asked her about the fairy-tale ball she’d attended over the weekend—out of both curiosity and envy—and Arabella told them all what they were eager to hear . . . that it had been lavish, lively, and unforgettable.
It wasn’t a lie. The Wilder Way charity ball had been all those things, even if the night had played out much differently than she ever could have imagined. Not that she shared her new living arrangements or her father’s betrayal with any of them.
When five o’clock rolled around and she walked out of the library, Milo was waiting for her by the concrete steps, right where he’d been when she’d entered the building that morning.
“Catch any bad guys today during your watch?” she teased him.
An amused smile tugged at his lips. “No, ma’am. It was a very quiet and slow day.”
“And boring, I’m sure.” She fell into step beside her security guard, watching as he texted on his phone, certain she knew who he was corresponding with. “Tell Maddux that we’re not coming back to the apartment right away,” she said, which earned her a raised brow from Milo that made her grin. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to try and make some big getaway. I just wanted to stop at that little Italian market we passed a block or so away from Maddux’s building so I can pick up something to make for dinner.”
“Okay,” he said, and relayed the message.
Maddux must not have had an issue with her request, because Milo drove her directly to Moretti’s Italian Grocery and Deli. As soon as she walked inside with her bodyguard at her side, an older man behind the deli counter greeted them with a huge, gregarious smile.
“Milo!” he called out merrily, clearly acquainted with Arabella’s sidekick. “Nice to see you. And who is this beautiful lady you’re with? A new girlfriend?”
Milo made a strangled, choking noise, his eyes wide. “Umm, no,” he said, shaking his head quickly. “She . . . uh, belongs to Maddux.”
Arabella burst out laughing at Milo’s off-the-cuff description of her relationship with his employer. What was she, a pet poodle? Then again she couldn’t refute that she did belong to Maddux. For now.
“I’m Luca Moretti,” the older man introduced himself jovially, resting his arms on the high counter between them. “What can I do for this woman who belongs to Maddux Wilder?”
She felt her face warm at his teasing comment, but Luca clearly knew Maddux well, too. “Please, call me Arabella,” she said, enjoying the other man’s friendly nature.
“Ahhh . . .” Luca placed his hand over his heart, his dark brown eyes sparkling. “A beautiful name for such a beautiful, lovely woman.”
“Husband, are you flirting with the pretty customers again?” a woman chastised as she came from a door that led to a back room. She looked to be in her late fifties, with dark hair, a gorgeous complexion, and a warm, friendly smile.
“Of course I am, my sweet Sofia. It keeps me young.” Luca grabbed his wif
e’s hand and drew her closer. “Come and meet Maddux’s girlfriend, Arabella.”
Sofia gasped. “This is like a rare unicorn sighting. We’ve never seen Maddux with a woman in here before, let alone met a girlfriend.”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” Arabella rushed to clarify, though her cheeks felt a few shades hotter at all the intimate references. “I’m just a friend.” It was the most straightforward way to describe her odd relationship with Maddux.
Luca waggled a finger at her. “You can’t fool us. That blush on your face says something much different.”
“Let’s let the girl be,” Sofia said, her tone gentle. “We don’t want to scare her away now that we’ve met her. What can we get for you, Arabella?”
“Well, let me see . . .” Grateful that the spotlight was now off of her, she gazed at all the items in the deli case . . . including fresh meats, sausages, sauces, homemade pasta, and side dishes. She’d planned to make something from scratch, but all the prepared entrees looked delicious, and considering how hungry she already was, just having to warm up an authentic Italian meal—no mess, no fuss—was suddenly very appealing.
“I’ll take your rigatoni with the Italian meat sauce,” she said. “Two servings, please.”
“Ahhh, a romantic night in for two,” Luca said in a fanciful tone as he started preparing her order.
She didn’t want to burst his bubble and tell him that the table would most likely be set for one, not two, just as it had been last night. But at least Maddux would have something for dinner, when and if he decided to eat it.
Ten minutes later, Luca set a paper bag on the counter that was filled with the items she’d ordered, and Sofia joined her husband with a clear plastic to-go container of what looked like some kind of dessert that Arabella hadn’t asked for.
Sofia smiled at her. “This is for the two of you to enjoy after dinner. Maddux loves my tiramisu and he hasn’t stopped by in a while, and I always like to spoil him when I can.”