“My sweet man…” she whispered and stopped suddenly to move aside. “Drew, something’s wrong here…”
Just as he suspected, he couldn’t hide a fucking thing from his dear and darling wife. Now, he truly loathed himself. However, he promised her honesty, and he couldn’t hide this turn of events from her forever.
A single shudder rocked his body as he gently climbed out from beneath the heavy down comforter to retrieve his phone.
“Drew…” Maxine turned to him. Her face was as white as the linens on their bed. “Drew, please…talk to me. Tell me…”
Pulling on his boxer shorts, he grunted. “Oh, my little one…”
As she took his hands, she pulled him along to sit down next to her and offered him comfort in her open arms. “Please talk to me—I hate when you try to shut me out…”
“Dammit, I can’t do this before coffee,” he muttered.
She nodded toward the hotel menu on the nightstand. “Order breakfast. I’m feeling patient this morning—with a side order of fortitude.”
Even in their most trying times, she could wrangle a smile from him. “You order since you seem to know what you want,” he said softly. “And then put some fucking clothes on. Dammit, Maxine, I’m sure you didn’t walk around your parents’ house naked all the time.”
“No, because you weren’t there!”
Just to humor him, she went through the motions while he continued to peck away at his texts. However, the second she poured her first cup of coffee a half hour later, she turned to Drew, her eyes beseeching him again. “Talk to me, husband…”
“Alright…” He dashed his long fingers through his sleep-rumpled hair, then rubbed the stubble on his face. “Maxine…something…something unsettling happened back home…”
Raising her hand to her quivering lips, Maxine could feel her eyes pool with tears. “Oh, no….not…Daddy? Your parents….?”
“No, my sweets…” He squeezed her tighter. “No. It’s…fuck! Maxine, someone sent me photos last night of our dungeon…”
Confusion cloaked her face, and she pushed back and away from Drew to look him in the eyes. “What…what are you saying?”
“Little one, someone knows about us,” he said, forcing a calm into his voice. “Someone broke into our studio somehow…took pictures…and texted me.”
“No…oh, Drew…no…”
He grabbed her once again. When he pulled her close to his chest, he could feel her heart racing out of control. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid, but now he had to assuage her fears.
“It’s going to get out. Daddy’s going to find out—and your parents. And the Tony’s are coming up, and—”
“Shhh…” he attempted to soothe her. “I know this is frightening, but just listen to me, Maxine.”
“But Drew, it’s—”
His finger caressed her lips to silence her. “I had Sean go to our place last night and take a look. Someone in a ski mask dismantled the camera outside the dungeon door—it was all on the security footage before this guy cut the wiring. And…he picked the lock…”
“Oh, dear Lord…” Eyes fluttering upward, Drew thought she just might faint and rushed to help her to rest on the pillows.
“How did they get into the building, Drew?” she demanded, knowing he didn’t have an answer for her. “Or were they already there?”
“They’re interviewing the staff today, little one,” Drew explained.
“I know it was that guy in the lobby!” she insisted, pointing her finger as she shook from head to toe. “He’s been watching us since we started dating. And he knows about the second apartment…”
While Drew couldn’t deny that he hadn’t discounted that little fucker, his suspicions also led him toward consideration of another nemesis. That moment, though, he didn’t want to exacerbate her fears, so he kept his mouth shut.
“Listen, little one, I had Sean put a team together to man the dungeon and the penthouse until we get home,” Drew assured her. “I’m keeping them for the duration. And…”
“And….?” she prompted him.
“And Etienne is on his way up here from Paris right now,” Drew continued. “I’m not taking any chances. He’s bringing a partner with him. They’ll watch over us and sweep this room…”
“Sweep the room?” She squinted her eyes tightly and wrung her hands. “This is no way to live.”
“Maxine, I will do whatever the fuck I have to do to protect you,” he said. “If it means bodyguards, then so be it…”
“Drew, it’s not just our safety…what if someone goes to the press with this?” she wailed. “Jeffrey can only do so much damage control—”
“Little one, as long as our parents don’t hate us, I’m beyond caring what the public thinks at this point,” he said. “I can honestly say that if I had to stop scening with you to win back Papa Kirk’s approval, I’d do it.”
She clenched her stomach. “Oh, not Daddy…I can’t even—”
“Maxine, please,” he begged, “I know this is hard, but let’s try to enjoy what’s left of our trip. I compromised my own promise to myself by telling you…”
“Because you really are so honest that you can’t hide anything from me,” Maxine whispered and circled her arms around his neck. “And you always tell me the truth—regardless of how ugly it might be.”
“Alright, little one,” he began, “in turn, I need something from you. I need you to promise me that you’re not going to dwell on this. You’re going to try to ignore the fact that we have security with us, and you’re going to enjoy every second of the rest of our honeymoon just as much as you adored the first part.”
Maxine had to stop and think before she answered him. With the constant reminder of a bodyguard on their heels, she had to wonder how she could possibly think of anything but their own safety.
“One more thing—Etienne is coming with us to Monet’s house today?” She had to know.
Apologetically, he nodded. “Yeah, he’s tagging along with us.”
“Can he wait outside? While we tour the gardens?”
Now Drew had to stop to consider her suggestion. This day that he’d planned was something Maxine had romanticized for years, thinking she’d never get to France to see Giverny in its springtime splendor for herself. The sky was a bright blue with the sun beating heavily upon the countryside, and it looked as if they’d been offered a reprieve from the rain. He couldn’t spoil this chance for her.
“Alright, he can wait outside,” he relented. “But the first suspicious looking person we encounter is going straight into that damn lily pond…understand?”
“Well…since we’re telling the truth here…” Maxine eased into her query with careful elegance. “Have you ever really had a beatdown with anyone but Adam?”
“No, actually,” he laughed nervously. “But for you, I could learn how to fight in about a second…”
Maxine took both of his hands in hers, threaded their fingers together, and squeezed. “As I said, in James Andrew McKenzie,” she began, “I do trust.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Naturally, what struck Maxine first as she skipped along and ahead of Drew, was the small colony of cats playing in the sunshine outside of Monet’s rustic old farmhouse.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so difficult, after all, to temporarily forget about the photos of the dungeon and the security detail now following them around the globe. In fact, her thoughts immediately rushed to their own kittens.
“Oh, I wonder what Nellie and Emile are doing right now!”
“It’s six in the morning in New York—they’re probably standing on top of my father’s chest, waiting to be fed…if they’re behaving like they do with us,” Drew chuckled as he bent down to give the sleek black kitty a good rub under the chin. “Aren’t you handsome…?”
However, there was far too much for Maxine to take in, as she took a step back to survey her surroundings. How she wished her mother would have had the chance t
o see this, but somehow, Maxine knew that Judy was touring the property right alongside them.
The house itself was quite long and narrow and sat upon the roadside, almost as a wall to hide the beauty and surprise of the gardens behind it. With its pink stucco and grass green shutters and trim, the façade, covered by the crawling vines that crept up the exterior, brimmed with vibrancy.
Infectious as ever, Maxine’s giddiness lured Drew to her side, allowing him to forget for just a little while as well. This magic of their honeymoon masked the unease that pervaded them that morning.
Turning around together, they faced the gardens from the porch, clutching hands as each wondered where to begin.
Life and color burst forth at every turn with nearly every flower imaginable so carefully planted on the vast grounds. Lingering in the delicate spring breeze, the scents of rose and iris mingled, tickling Maxine’s sense of smell. Without a care for anyone else around them, she stood high on her tiptoes on that creaky green porch and pecked her husband on the lips.
She could already sense that, in spite of everything, they were going to have a glorious day.
Every few steps through the tulips, pansies, and forget-me-nots, they stopped for a quick buss on the dirt paths that led them along. The crabapple and cherry blossoms were at their peak, and Maxine imagined a picnic beneath those beautiful trees. Overhead, the floral arches provided the perfect shade as they strolled.
Suddenly, she was so very pleased with herself for remembering to bring along her digital camera, knowing full well that she could easily run out of memory on her iPhone with silly selfies alone. In fact, she’d never taken so many pictures in her life as she had the last few days.
Much to her surprise, Drew allowed his guard to drop for a while, too. The situation back home was in the cautious hands of Sean, whom the McKenzies trusted implicitly, and he’d make sure all were safe until they returned to New York. Drew had to convince himself that unless something else happened—which was unlikely now with security in place—thing would be just fine.
As they meandered from the perfect rows of flower beds toward the underpass that led to the water gardens, Drew stopped and turned sharply toward Maxine.
With a quick look in each direction, he pressed her up against the latticed green walls that were painted in the same shade as the trim on the house. Capturing her wrists, he muttered, “I wish I would have brought your handcuffs, Miss Merryweather, to restrain you here right now…”
Only Drew McKenzie would turn a tour of Monet’s gardens into a scene. “Mr. Mack!” she managed as his mouth came down over hers for a plunder.
With the thrust of his hips, he immobilized her against the flimsy wooden frame. He was far too stressed to make love to her that morning, and now, he felt the lingering effects of his own self-denial.
“You’d love it, wouldn’t you, Miss Merryweather?” Those navy blue eyes challenged her. “You’re such a little slut…”
“Would…I…would love it, Mr. Mack.”
Cock prodding her right between her legs, Drew gave her a shake, then let her go. Meanwhile, Maxine’s fingers continued to clutch the lattice.
“You look so fucking beautiful like that,” Drew whispered huskily as he pulled out his phone to snap a photo. Eyes now half-closed with desire, Maxine clung the wall behind her as she languished in that flowing white eyelet dress that dropped at her waist. As she pulled at the wooden frame, Drew had to remind himself that they still had an entire afternoon ahead of them.
“Gorgeous, little one…you look like you want someone to fuck you…”
Their frolicking, however, was cut short by another couple passing through. Drew immediately slung his arm around her back to continue on. They had plenty of time—and places—yet to play.
Once they’d climbed the stairs, though, Maxine found herself lost in the magnificence of nature once again. Her eyes fluttered about to take in every angle of the water garden that she’d only seen in paintings.
She’d never noticed so many hues of green in her life. With the willows draping over the pond like thick, luxurious curtains, the wooded surround offered the perfect frame for the lily pods upon the pond. There were flowers in lavender and purple and burgundy and white all around—in fact, she couldn’t even name them all.
Of course, she wanted to see the Japanese Bridge, popularized in Monet’s paintings of his beloved garden; however, she wanted to absorb every curve of the dirt path surrounding the perimeter. There were tiny alcoves sculpted from nature, birds flying happily about, and a few squirrels scurrying along the way.
For once, they were in no hurry. Maxine exalted in even his slightest touch—the kiss of his lips against the top of her head, the brush of his fingertips over her arm and even the gentle pressure of his hand at the small of her back. Everything was just so calm and still. Even the water appeared as if Monet had just painted the lily pods and small wooden boat upon the pond.
Once they’d circled around, they’d finally found their way to the Japanese Bridge, where Drew turned her to face him under the thickets of wisteria hanging overhead. With amorous intentions shadowing his eyes, Drew took her into his arms and kissed her.
Clutching the railing, Maxine felt weak, as she often did in Drew’s embrace, but there was something so alluring about the entire setting that just left her ravenous. As his lips caressed her, the white hot energy that radiated between them sparked to a flame.
She could only hear the intake of her own breath, Drew’s sigh and the sweet sounds of their mouths at play.
“You make every fantasy even better in reality, Drew,” she whispered, still huddled close to her husband. “I never dreamed I’d be kissing you here in this spot…”
“And I never dreamed I’d marry a woman like you, Maxine,” he said, his fingers dancing over her cheeks and chin. “You’re too perfect for me. I didn’t believe you actually existed.”
Relaxing against his chest, Maxine gazed all around her, taking in every last detail of their walk around the pond once again. “I don’t want to ever leave France. I don’t think I’ve ever known such serenity in my life…”
“We could sell the penthouse and see if the Monet Foundation would accept a cash offer for the house,” he teased, imagining right alongside her. “Fly the cats over on Air Adam.”
“They’d have some new friends to play with, too,” she noted. “Hey, maybe Daddy would even build a treehouse for us here—on his off-season, of course.”
“A dungeon-dirty playhouse…” Drew laughed with a bawdy undertone, only to receive Maxine’s elbow to his stomach.
“My father would be building it…”
“He can build it, little one, but you’ve already proven to be quite good at designing sex salons.”
“One of the many talents I’ve developed since meeting you…” she said with a bat of her lashes. “Back to our fantasy....”
“So we buy this place, settle the cats in, build a treehouse…” Drew began. “And then what?”
“We fuck like bunnies in Monet’s bed until we’re blind?”
“Yeah…see, Maxine,” he said, “I think we’d get bored and miss New York too much.”
“Summer home?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he said pensively. “I’ll consider your request.”
Eventually, they did have to move from their prime spot on the Japanese Bridge, but they still had the house to tour. Reluctantly, they made their way back toward the front of the property—walking through that latticed underpass again, rekindling her fantasy of restraint.
Maxine didn’t mind one more stroll through the garden, and they lingered a bit longer on their second pass through. Drew adored watching her bend down in that tiny white dress to snap the perfect pictures of the flowers. Just seeing the faint outline of her panties through the flowy cotton filled his mind with filthy ideas.
Never one to miss Drew’s tricks, Maxine took note of that salacious smile when she stood up. “What’s that grin
you’re wearing, Mr. Mack?”
“Enjoying the view, Miss Merryweather…” he said as he slipped up behind her while she clomped up the wooden porch steps. “Just…enjoying…the view….”
“Yes, Mr. Mack,” she said with a wiggle. “I can feel that you are…”
Inside, Maxine found herself so very charmed by the quaint but welcoming rooms. The colorful kitchen with its sky blue porcelain tiles covering the walls brought Maxine a sense of warmth. She could imagine a family joining there to prepare a meal before slipping into the bright yellow dining room, where light flooded from the doors that opened to the back porch.
Each room—from the salons to the bedrooms—showcased an eclectic mix of décor and art, featuring prints of Monet’s most famous works as well as his own collection of Japanese art and artifacts. In fact, there was so much to see, with small touches of antiques and personal items filling nearly every corner, that Maxine feared she might miss something.
They’d traipsed up the steps to the second floor. Maxine found it so amusing that Monet’s wife had a separate bedroom. That would simply never work for her and Drew.
Just as the rest of the house, the sleeping quarters were appointed with typical French country accents—bulky wooden furniture painted in a pretty pale shade of yellow, a roll top desk, and a mirrored armoire. The simplicity of it all against the blooming backdrop of the intricately landscaped gardens outside left her feeling so serene. As she stepped up to the open window, she sighed at the splendor to which Monet awakened every morning. Suddenly, she put his entire life into perspective.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Uh-huh…” Maxine managed. He was so close—too close…almost.
Moving her hair aside, he allowed his breath to tickle the back of her neck, prompting goosebumps to rise on her arms. Maxine couldn’t help but wonder if he’d kiss her there, or if he’d just leave her lingering for more.
“Not as beautiful as what I get to wake up to every morning, though,” he murmured and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.
KNOTTED: The Manhattan Bound Series, Book Three Page 44