The Billionaire's Salvation: (The Billionaire's Obsession ~ Max)

by J. S. Scott

  Thank God!

  “I can’t find my wedding ring. I’ve searched everywhere,” Mia murmured quietly as she and Max were eating supper that evening. Max had arranged dinner at home, Italian food from her favorite restaurant.

  “You had to have been wearing it when you disappeared. It’s never been here,” Max answered, looking up at her as he dropped the fork on his empty plate.

  Mia could see the hurt look in his eyes, and it almost leveled her. Obviously he’d noticed it was missing, but he hadn’t said anything. “Why would I take it off if I was wearing it? I never took it off.”

  “I know,” he answered grimly. “I wondered about that myself.”

  Frustrated, Mia dropped her napkin on her empty plate and reached for her glass of wine. She took a sip, trying desperately to remember what had happened, to conjure memories, any information about the past few years. As usual, she could see nothing but a blank space of time, as though she’d been sleeping through the last few years. “I can’t remember,” she admitted softly, wanting desperately to know what had happened. She needed to know, and so did Max. Obviously the uncertainty was haunting both of them. “Tell me what happened after I disappeared. Were there ever any clues to where I went, what I did?”

  “No,” Max replied darkly. “The last thing you remember happened a week or two before you disappeared.” He stopped and reached for his beer, taking a gulp before he continued, “I’m not even completely sure what day you vanished. I found your things on the beach the day I came home from an overnight business trip. It could have been the day I left or the following day. I came home late. I hated myself for ever leaving on that trip.”

  He looked tormented, and she hated it. “Max, it wasn’t your fault. You were considering running for public office, and you had business out of town—”

  “It was bullshit. All of it. I never wanted to be a politician, and I could have left most of the traveling to upper management. I was a goddamn coward, Mia. I took those trips to take a break from us.” After downing the rest of his beer, he stood abruptly and went to the refrigerator for another one.

  Mia felt her hand trembling as she reached for her wine, taking a healthy sip. He needed a break? Had he wanted out of their marriage? “Was I suffocating you because I loved you too much?” It was a hard question to ask, but she needed to know. Max had been her whole world since they’d met, and maybe it was too much for him. She had a tendency to be a bit extreme in everything she did, while Max was exactly the opposite. Maybe he couldn’t bear her intensity for long periods of time, even though she’d really tried to tone it down for his sake, not wanting to scare him away.

  Max twisted the top off his beer, laughing harshly as he tossed the cap in the trash. “It wasn’t you; it was me. I wanted to be smothered by you; I wanted to be the only man you saw, the only man who existed for you.”

  “But Max, you were—”

  “It wasn’t enough,” he told her roughly as he slid into his chair again, piercing her with a possessive stare that Mia had never seen before. “The things I wanted weren’t right in my mind. My dad loved my mom and treated her with tenderness and devotion. Although I felt those things too, there was also this total obsession that I didn’t think was right, natural. You’re my wife, a woman who deserves my respect. I never wanted you to leave me. I didn’t want to scare you away by acting like a lunatic. The way I felt wasn’t rational. I wanted to kill any man who looked at you.”

  Oh, God. He’d felt the same way she did, and he hadn’t been able to deal with it. The crazy love, the over-the-top desire to rip his clothes off and have wild, crazy sex until they were both so sated they couldn’t move. Her levelheaded Max, her sensible husband, her tender lover really felt the same savage emotions. He just hadn’t wanted her to know.

  “So you’re really a closet dominant male?” she asked, shivering as she watched his face, the turbulent emotions making the flecks of gold in his eyes glow as he stared at her as though he wanted to swallow her whole. Her core flooded with heat as she watched him struggle, secretly hoping the alpha would break free. Just once…she’d like to see Max totally lose control, not in a bad way, but in a very, very good way. It would make him more human, more real, and she welcomed it.

  If that’s a part of Max I haven’t seen…bring it on!

  “I think I’m beyond that, and I don’t think I’m in the closet anymore. And I’m still perfectly rational with everyone and everything except you. You’re the only woman who’s ever made me feel this way,” he growled, his face damp with perspiration.

  Mia tried to hide the longing that she was certain was showing on her face, wanting to do nothing except crawl into his lap and make him completely lose control. The feminine power she had over him was suddenly a heady, dizzying feeling. This man, who was her entire world, wanted her above all things, above any other woman on earth, and she knew she could make him lose it. But he had trusted her with his feelings, and she wasn’t going to use them against him when he was struggling, vulnerable. She loved him too much. What he’d been taught growing up by the parents he’d loved and the way he was feeling now were warring against each other.

  Everything inside of her rejoiced, elated to know that he’d felt the same as she did, that his love was anything but lukewarm and tepid, controlled and sane. Now, it seemed almost ridiculous that they had both never fully revealed the intensity of their emotions for fear of losing the one they loved to the point of insanity. “You can be whoever you really are with me, Max. I’ll never stop loving you.”

  “I think that’s the problem. I was never truly alive until I met you. I was the guy who never lost his temper, never let emotions get in the way of a business deal, and I was pretty much indifferent about everything. The only thing I wanted was to be a good son to my adoptive parents because they had given me so much. I guess I thought I needed to be in their image, act like a Hamilton, to make up for the fact that I wasn’t their blood child. I didn’t even know who I was,” Max admitted.

  “And do you know who you are now?” Mia asked softly, loving him even more for being able to bare himself to her.

  “Not completely,” he said with a masculine sigh. “But I can guarantee you that I’m not indifferent, especially not when it comes to you. I know exactly how I feel about you. I always have. I just wasn’t sure you could handle it.”

  “I can,” she told him emphatically. Trying to give him a reprieve, she glanced away from him and asked calmly, “Tell me what happened after you found out I was missing.”

  Max took a deep breath before he answered, “Obviously, there was an extensive search, but it only lasted about a week because there were no leads. After that, they were convinced you had either drowned or there was only one possible suspect if you were murdered. They weren’t really looking at other possibilities because nothing else made sense.”

  “Who?” she asked him, confused.

  “Me,” he answered, his voice low and hoarse. “A woman with no real enemies vanishes and can’t be found, the usual suspect is her husband.”

  “Oh, God. Max, I’m so sorry.” It had to have been awful for him, being suspected of murdering his own wife. “There was no motive, no reason to even suspect you.”

  Max shrugged. “Crime of passion? Another woman? Another man? Money? Believe me…they checked every possibility, dug through every record to make sure I hadn’t done anything to you for any of those reasons. When they finally decided I wasn’t guilty, they assumed you had drowned. They said they didn’t suspect foul play. There was never a demand for ransom, no reason to believe you were abducted. There was no activity on any of your accounts. It was like you had just…vanished.”

  Tears sprung to Mia’s eyes as she watched him trying so hard to impersonally state just the facts when he’d so obviously suffered. Had their positions been reversed, she wasn’t sure she could have come out of it still sane. “The m
edia must have been horrible.”

  “Luckily I was spared that part of it. They kept the investigation quiet. I cooperated, gave them whatever they wanted.”

  Whatever she had done, Mia hated herself for putting Max through hell. He was a man with pride, a man of integrity, and being stripped of all that he was for the investigation had to have been devastating. Squeezing her eyes closed to prevent her tears from falling, she whispered softly, “I wish I could remember. I wish I knew why I did this to you.”

  Max rose from his chair and scooped her up, sitting back down in her chair with her cradled in his lap. “Hey, don’t cry. You don’t know what your reason was or what happened. Don’t blame yourself. I survived. You’re here now. That’s all that matters to me.”

  Opening her eyes, the tears falling down her cheeks, she asked him, “Why are you still wearing your ring? You must have given up hope, thought I was dead.” She lifted his hand, running a finger over the platinum band and feeling lost without her own wedding ring. Sure…it was just an object, but it was a symbol of her love for Max, and she missed the heavy weight on her finger. Her wedding day had been the happiest day of her life, and the loss of her ring nearly killed her.

  Spearing his hand into her hair, he tilted her head back as he told her roughly, “I never gave up hope. Right after you disappeared, I made a promise to you that I’d never give up. I couldn’t. In my heart, I never accepted that you were dead. I guess I thought that if you really were, I would feel it.”

  A sob escaped Mia’s lips as she looked at Max’s earnest, fierce expression.

  Why? What possible reason could I have had to put him through this?

  She could remember their life together up until a week or so before she’d disappeared. Granted, they had both been hiding, afraid to reveal some parts of themselves. But they had loved each other, and there had never, not once, been any thoughts of betraying or leaving Max for any reason.

  Clutching at his shirt, fisting handfuls of it as she cried, she managed to tell him in an anguished voice, “I want to remember. I have to know why.”

  Max grasped both of her wrists and wrapped them around his neck. His actions were gentle, but his voice was stern. “Stop it, Mia. Stop doing this to yourself. You’ll remember and everything will be fine.”

  She shuddered as the fight left her body, her emotions spent, her head dropping onto his broad shoulder. Her mouth was close to the bare skin of his neck and she inhaled deeply, letting the masculine, sexy musk of him surround her. At the moment, she was safe in Max’s arms. Unfortunately, for some reason, she didn’t completely share his optimism. Some warning, some niggling sixth sense was telling her that even though she needed to remember, things wouldn’t be all right. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. She just hoped that when the hole in her memory was filled, the knowledge wouldn’t destroy them both.

  Two women in the same body. All she could hope for now was to figure out who she really was, and which one was the real Mia.

  Mia stopped her descent down the elegant staircase of her home, a towel and blanket in her hand, to listen to the powerful music coming from their grand piano. Although she identified the skilled fingers of Max immediately, the violence of the music grabbed hold of her, halting her progress down the stairs just to listen.

  Max had always been an accomplished pianist, sometimes playing the works of the Masters, but occasionally working on a composition of his own. This one was definitely nothing she recognized, and she knew instinctively it was his own work. The melody went from hauntingly, achingly beautiful, and then transforming into a violent crescendo, building until nearly her entire body was trembling from the intensity of the music. Sitting, her ass hit one of the steps; her hand grasped one of the wooden balusters and she rested her head against the oak banister, tears filling her eyes as her husband poured his soul into his music. Mia could feel every emotion: love, frustration, loneliness, hopelessness, desperation. They all mixed and swirled, wringing the same emotions from her heart that he was feeling with his music.

  Tucker plopped down next to her, resting his head in her lap. Mia stroked him absently, loving the feel of her canine companion. “Something’s not right, Tucker,” she whispered, wishing the dog could talk. Tucker had always had a strange instinct, as though he knew when something was wrong. He was trying to comfort her now, and she rubbed his belly, feeling better just because he was her comrade. “Has he been playing like this while I was gone?” she asked the dog softly, smiling as Tucker gave her a doggy look of understanding.

  Max and Tucker had bonded, and although her dog still came to her for his daily dose of affection, he seemed to be loyal to Max now too. Rolling his pudgy body back into sitting position, the canine gave her a questioning look.

  “Go to him,” she urged the dog, knowing Tucker was torn between her and Max, both of them confused and in need of his company.

  With a final doggie lick to her hand, Tucker waddled down the stairs and toward the music room. Mia knew from watching her man and her dog together that Tucker would plop down at Max’s feet, not expecting a massive amount of affection from Max. But Tucker seemed content just to share space with the man who had fed, watered, and cared for him for the last few years.

  The piece stopped with a final discordant note, the silence followed by fingers toying with the keys. Mia took a deep breath and released it, stunned by the volatile composition. Max usually played with consummate skill, making a piano sing, but she’d never felt so much emotion pulsating through his music.

  Suddenly, she realized she’d never really done much else except scratch the surface of Max’s emotions. He was always so controlled and sensible in every aspect of his life. She’d never looked deeper, afraid that she wouldn’t see what she so desperately needed to find.

  She stood and made her way to the French doors off the dining room, slipping out just as Max started playing Mozart, his playing controlled again, and absolutely perfect.

  She sighed as the warm, humid air hit her scantily-clad body. She’d dug up an old bikini and donned it, throwing on one of Max’s t-shirts over the top. The water was beckoning, and she took the wooden stairs to the beach two at a time, eager to feel the water caressing her skin, turning on the porch light as she went. It was dark, but between the moon, stars, and the dim light from the porch, her favorite spot in the world was transformed into a dimly lit paradise. Spreading the blanket, she breathed in the sea air. She’d wanted to ask Max to come with her, but they had separated after dinner. He’d gone to his music room and she’d gone upstairs to do another search for her wedding ring—an unsuccessful endeavor that had left her depressed and confused. Had it been stolen, taken away from her? There was no other way anyone would have gotten it off her finger. She’d needed to relax, to try to forget for just a little while how much her life had changed and deal with the huge hole in her existence.

  Lifting the shirt from her body and dropping it on the sand, she headed for the water, trying to leave her jumbled thoughts behind her.

  The moment Max realized that Mia wasn’t in the house…he panicked. He’d gone upstairs to find her, but she was nowhere to be found.

  “Mia,” he bellowed, checking every room downstairs as he called her name. “She’s here somewhere. She has to be here,” he chanted in a whisper to himself as every room came up empty.

  Entering the dining room, he saw the porch light on and the door ajar. “No. Fuck no,” he said in a husky, desperate voice. Kicking the door open, his eyes scanned the beach from the porch, and what he saw sent his heart into palpitations. Perspiration formed on his face as he leaped down the stairs, sprinting across the sand. “No, goddammit. No.”

  He saw her head go under the water, and he dove into the waves, not caring that he was fully clothed. The denim of his jeans slowed him down, but his horror and fear had him swimming toward her like a madman. Her head popped up beside him, and he
snaked his arm around her waist.

  He heard her scream, not recognizing him until she’d swiped the water from her eyes. “Max. Shit. You scared the hell out of me.” She tried to break his grip, but he didn’t let go, treading water as he kept her firmly in his grasp.

  “Get out of the water,” he growled at her, his whole body shuddering as he pushed her toward shore. “Now!”

  He pushed her in front of him, shoving her back toward shore. She sputtered as she started swimming. “I’m close to shore. The water is barely over my head,” she shouted as she swam steadily toward the sandy beach.

  “Move.” The command was sharp, and Max didn’t give a shit. He wanted her out of the water, back on shore, somewhere safe. Damn it. Didn’t she realize she couldn’t swim at night or alone? Not ever. He’d just gotten her back and he wasn’t losing her again. He despised this beach, and he hadn’t set foot on it again after he’d spent the night here over two years ago, shedding tears for the first time and only time, and waking up to the knowledge that his wife could very well be gone from his life forever. He hated this damn place. He hated the sand, the water, the memories of thinking this was the last place that Mia had been before she’d died.

  The moment she stood, Max swept her up into his arms and carried her to the blanket on the beach. He laid her down and came down on top of her, breathless, more from his dread and horror of seeing her in the water than from exertion. He wanted—no, he needed—her compliance. He didn’t care if he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. Having her under him, at his mercy, was exactly what he needed, and he reveled in it. Adrenaline was still pounding through his body as he trapped her hands over her head, urging him to take what was his, what belonged to him.

  “Mine.” His voice was feral and animalistic, his cock pressing against the saturated denim of his jeans.

  The light was dim, but he could still see her face, and she didn’t look the least bit frightened. She looked at him with longing, aroused, and it nudged him even closer to insanity just knowing she wanted him this way. She didn’t struggle…she relaxed, yielding to him so sweetly that it was his undoing, making every possessive and dominant instinct he’d been holding back since the moment he’d met her explode from his body like they had been spring loaded, as if the button to release had finally been pushed, and there was no way those emotions would ever go back inside him again.