“When you’re ready, I’ll meet you in the kitchen for breakfast and to go over a few ground rules for living here.”
And with that, he was gone. She exhaled a sigh, rolled to her back, and stared up at the ceiling, realizing that this was going to be her new normal for however long Maddux decided to keep her. A life with guidelines and rules and getting whiplash from his shifting moods. Oh, joy.
Last night, after he’d stormed out of the bedroom after kissing her, she’d had the thought that she could have walked out of his penthouse and left him and the situation behind. She could have called authorities and claimed kidnapping or tried any other number of ways to escape, but there was one thing that was most at stake that made her determined to remain and serve whatever sentence Maddux had in store for her.
She wasn’t staying because of the possibility of having her father’s massive debt forgiven, or the chance of Maddux releasing all her dad’s assets back to him, because there was no guarantee of either. No, it was ultimately her father’s declining health that kept her from walking away. Because if she didn’t stay, she knew things would be worse for her dad, and the thought of losing her only parent—even if he had wronged Maddux and his siblings—was distressing enough to make Arabella follow through on the agreement she’d made.
She’d made a deal, and she would honor it.
With that pep talk, she got out of bed and went to the enormous bathroom that was half the size of the bedroom and like a luxurious spa. On one side was a long, sleek vanity with a heated towel rack at the end and some kind of fancy toilet. Opposite that wall was a huge glass-enclosed and marbled cubicle that combined numerous overhead showerheads and massage jets built into the wall, along with a gigantic soaking tub that had to have been custom-made to accommodate Maddux’s size. Even if he spilled water over the rim, there were numerous drains on the floor to catch it all.
Considering how much Arabella loved baths, she’d at least enjoy that bit of luxury while she was here, she thought with a smile.
But right now, she had orders to meet Maddux in the kitchen, but as she stared into the bathroom mirror, she realized she had no clean clothes to change into, no makeup remover or even a brush for her hair. Until she retrieved some of her own things from home, she improvised by wiping away the smudges beneath her eyes with a tissue, brushed her teeth with her finger, and tried to tame her disheveled hair before joining Maddux in the luxurious kitchen, still wearing the T-shirt he’d put her in last night.
The delicious scent of bacon and coffee made her stomach grumble, and she found her captor standing at the stainless-steel stove, cooking the strips of pork. The sight of Maddux’s bare, toned physique distracted her for a moment. His skin was tanned and smooth, and the way his muscled back tapered from his wide shoulders down to his narrow hips was nothing short of a work of art. The kind she could admire for hours for all its perfection.
He must have heard or sensed her presence, because he glanced over his shoulder to look at her. His expression was neutral, which she supposed was an improvement from last night’s irate mood and this morning’s grumpy disposition.
“There’s orange juice, or fresh coffee if you prefer,” he said, returning his gaze to his task. “Creamer is in the refrigerator.”
“Okay,” she said, and went straight for the caffeine.
Since he had a cup already filled with coffee near him by the stove, she assumed the extra one on the counter was for her and poured the steaming brew into the mug. She added a spoonful of sugar from the glass dish he’d set out and a dollop of creamer to smooth out the taste.
She took a few sips, savoring the bold flavor before asking, “Can I help you with anything?”
“No. Sit at the counter.” He pointed a finger toward the nearby kitchen nook area. “The bacon is almost crisp, and after that I’ll scramble some eggs. Is that an acceptable breakfast for you?”
“Yes. Of course,” she said, sliding onto one of the chrome and leather stools. “I’m not a fussy eater.”
“Good to know.” He removed the bacon from the frying pan, then heated up a clean one with a slice of butter for the eggs. “There’s a pen and pad of paper right there in front of you. Make a list of what you like to eat, and anything else you want or need, and I’ll get it ordered and delivered later today.”
Ahh, the ease of online shopping. She picked up the pen and jotted down a few of her favorite snacks and things she could make for her lunches to take to work, which she needed to talk to him about at some point. She might be indebted to him for the foreseeable future, but she still had obligations and commitments to fulfill.
“Other than breakfast, do you have anyone who cooks for you or provides meals?” she asked curiously.
“No.” He poured a bowl of beaten eggs into the buttered pan. “I have a housekeeper who comes in once a week on Thursdays, but when it comes to cooking, I’m pretty self-sufficient.” He looked her way with a slight, rare smile. “And if I’m not in the mood to make something myself, there’s always Grubhub.”
Spoken like a true bachelor, she thought in amusement. “I’d like to make dinners if that’s okay?” she asked, because it was something she enjoyed. “I’m pretty creative and I’m used to cooking for myself and Father on a regular basis, so I might as well make myself useful here.”
Another deliberate glance her way revealed eyes that were dark and hot as they dropped to her mouth. “Bella, I’ll make sure you’re plenty useful,” he murmured huskily.
She shivered, and it wasn’t with trepidation, but anticipation. Her traitorous nipples tightened against the T-shirt she wore, and he smirked as his brazen gaze lowered and noticed her body’s reaction. God, she was absolutely shameless when it came to this man, and at least the attraction was completely mutual.
He returned his attention to their breakfast and scooped some of the scrambled eggs onto two separate plates, one of the dishes heaped double the size of the other serving for himself, along with strips of bacon.
“I’ll be sending two of my security guys to collect your things from your father’s. They should be here by this afternoon,” he said, changing the subject. “If there is anything that is missing once your personal effects arrive, let me know and I’ll make sure it’s retrieved.”
He set a dish in front of where she was sitting, while he remained standing on the other side of the counter, facing her. She picked up her fork and pushed it through her fluffy eggs. “I can always go by myself and collect what I need.”
“No.” His voice was adamant, as was the implacable gleam in his eyes. “While you’re under my authority, you may call and talk to your father on the phone, but any visits with him or to your home will be supervised.”
Startled by the vehemence in his tone, she blinked at him. “Why?”
“Because I don’t trust him to be alone with you,” he replied succinctly. “And right now, until I decide differently, you’re mine.”
She opened her mouth to argue how ridiculous that demand was, but he gave his head a firm shake and cut her off. “My rules, Bella,” he said, his voice a low, uncompromising growl. “And you will abide by them.”