Max’s laughter boomed through the air as he entered the house. “Sweetheart, do you think I don’t have some stashed in every nook and cranny of this house?” He gave her a lusty grin. “I did mention that it was a priority.”
Relieved, she smiled back at him, her heart soaring at the fact that being with her had been so important to him, dire enough that he put condoms everywhere.
“Still feeling pretty ambitious?” she bantered, still not quite used to this new Max.
“Depraved and deprived,” he told her, disgruntled.
“I think we can take care of that,” she said longingly as Max carried her toward the bedroom.
“Oh, I’m planning on it,” he answered in a cocky, haughty tone.
Mia sighed, speechless. She certainly wasn’t going to argue about that.
Chapter 5
"Billionaire’s Wife Returns From The Dead With No Memory!”
Mia flipped the newspaper over on the bed, her stomach sinking to her feet as she realized the media had caught up with her. “I hate the media,” she commented vehemently, unable to keep the slight tremor from her voice.
Max came through the bedroom door with two cups of coffee in his hands, handing one to her before picking up the paper, glancing at it and dropping it into the trash can beside the bed. Seating himself on the bed next to her, splayed out like every women’s fantasy in just a sexy pair of black silk boxer shorts, he replied, “Hey, don’t let it upset you, sweetheart. I’ll give a statement, they’ll be hot on our trail for a while, and then they’ll find something more interesting to write about. They always do.”
Mia knew that, but while they were the hot topic, they’d hound them to death. Her eyes ran over Max lovingly, her pulse accelerating as she took in his powerful thighs, that tempting happy trail on his sculpted abs and his broad, naked chest. Finally, her gaze landed on his face, and the concern she saw there as he watched her closely over the rim of his coffee cup made her relax. “I’m sorry. I know it’s part of our life, but they never let up after what happened with my parents…” Her voice trailed off, not really wanting to talk about her mother and father.
She’d grown up monetarily privileged, but all that proved was that even the wealthy could be incredibly dysfunctional. Her father had been a brilliant man in business, but he had been emotionally deranged, and everyone in her family had paid for it in one way or another, her mother with her life. She didn’t want to be in the news, didn’t want the murder/suicide of her parents to be dug up and talked about again. It had barely died down when she had met Max. Since then, she’d done everything possible to stay out of the media’s gossip columns.
“They won’t drag it up, Mia. I’ll kill the first person who does,” he said ominously.
Mia smiled, sipping her coffee and watching her husband, her heart skittering at his dangerous look. They should both be exhausted since they’d spent most of the night devouring each other, even after their passionate interlude on the beach. But strangely, she felt happier than she’d ever been, even though she was missing part of her past. And Max looked relaxed, even with the irritated expression he had on his gorgeous face from talking about the press.
“I don’t care about me. I can handle it. I don’t want them to talk about it because it would be hard on you, Kade, and Travis.” She took another sip of her coffee, watching Max’s expression turn from irritated to stunned.
“Me? Why the hell would I care?” Max drained his coffee cup and set it on the bedside table.
“I’m your wife. You’re a billionaire businessman. I’ve always tried to be the woman you need—”
“You are the woman I need,” he told her, his voice angry now. “I don’t care who your parents were or what they did.”
“My father was insane. He shot my mother and then put the gun in his mouth and blew his brains out. You think they won’t wonder about my sanity? Whether I’m a little crazy too? I’m coming back from the dead, a big hole in my memory. I’m sure people will judge by my history.” And God, she hated that.
“It’s not your goddamn history,” Max replied, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he answered. “And anyone who judges you by something your parents did isn’t somebody we need to give a shit about. You, Kade, and Travis aren’t made from the same mold.”
“I’ve always tried to be careful, tried not to draw attention to myself. I wanted to be a good wife to you, Max. I tried to change. I don’t know what happened.” She understood what he was saying, but people did judge, they did talk, and Max had never been the subject of bad press. He was respected as a businessman, his personal life never dragged through the mud because he gave the media nothing to talk about.
“Did you feel like you needed to change because of me?” Max asked curiously, his voice calmer.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I wanted to be perfect. I slipped sometimes, did something stupid or thoughtless.” Honestly, now that she thought about it, she’d turned herself inside out to become the woman she thought Max wanted. “Every time I got a lecture from you, I tried to laugh it off, but I tried to do better. But you were just so damned perfect,” she replied honestly.
Max started with a snort, and then he rolled on the bed, his uproarious laughter echoing off the walls of the enormous bedroom.
“What?” Mia drained her coffee cup and set it on the table.
Sitting up, Max took her by the shoulders, still chuckling as he told her adamantly, “Sweetheart, I’m far from perfect. Do you realize that I think we were both trying to fit the mold that we assumed was the other’s ideal? It would be even more f**king hilarious if it wasn’t a little heartbreaking.” He eased her down on the pillows, and lay on his side, one arm draped around her waist and the other propping his head up, staring at her adoringly. “Tell me what you did.”
Max seemed so approachable and amused that she decided to just tell him. They were starting again, so he might as well know exactly what she’d done to try to be the perfect wife. “I waxed. I hated it, but I screamed my way through it, cursing the woman doing it in my head as a sadist. And I tried to stop being so clumsy. I got up every day and primped, even though I just wanted to wear a tank top without a bra and a crappy pair of shorts and get to work. I dieted, trying to be slender, feeling like I was starving to death most of the time. I stopped cursing because I thought it offended you, although I came close to slipping occasionally. I was raised with two brothers, and watching what I said was difficult. And I bought clothes because they were trendy, not because I liked them. I bit my tongue at parties, even when I didn’t agree with what people were saying.” Nibbling at her lower lip, she watched his face as it broke into a sexy smile.