Footsteps fall on the landing. It’s a strong beat. Only a man’s stride can tap out that promise of dominance on marble. Why is he coming back? Did he forget something?
Refusing to cower, I limp to the door to meet him head-on.
Then I stop in my tracks.
“Hello, Zoe,” Alexis says, pushing inside.
Chapter 12
Maxime
Lying in the bed big of the honeymoon suite surrounded by petals and candles, I stare at the ceiling. I haven’t even bothered to cancel our dinner. Neither the singer, nor the cake. I’ve only scavenged enough energy to let the priest know he could send the choir home.
As darkness creeps through the window, a strange sensation grows with the shadows. It’s a brand new feeling.
Regret.
I’ve fucked this up. I’m out of control, which is why I can’t be with Zoe. The way I behaved wasn’t a well-crafted lesson. I was running on pure, undiluted emotions. I allowed my feelings to control me instead of the other way around.
That has never happened. I’m not sure what to do with these feelings, these things living in my chest. It’s a godawful sensation, downright depressing. I wish Zoe has never made me feel. It hurts like a bitch, worse than the flames that melted my skin. The intensity with which she makes me experience things is frightening. What if I don’t master these emotions? I have to get a grip on myself and fucking learn to control these foreign sentiments.
A knock on the door startles me.
Zoe?
The only way she could’ve found out where I am is by tracking my number via the geolocation app on her phone. Pushing off the bed, I go to the door with my stupid heart thumping in my chest. I pull it wide open with hope chasing the corners of the shadows away, but my wishful thinking collapses like dominoes.
My voice is dejected. “Francine.”
She’s wearing the same dress from this afternoon, a white one that shows off her legs. “Can I come in?”
I lean in the frame. “How did you find me?”
“You sent me your itinerary to go over everything and make sure you didn’t forget something, remember?”
Fuck. Yeah. I’m not thinking straight. I turn the wedding ring around my finger with my thumb, feeling the weight of it. “What you do want?”
“I reckoned you could do with a friend.”
“Wait. How did you know I wasn’t at home?”
“I went around to see if you needed anything. The way you and Zoe got married made me worry. Your car wasn’t in the parking. Thought I’d take a chance and check here. Bingo.”
“I appreciate the concern. Now good night.”
I start to close the door, but she slams one hand on the wood and the other on my chest.
The touch is repulsive on my dead skin. I back up a step, giving her the opportunity she needs to wiggle her way into the room.
She shuts the door. “Just one drink. Don’t look so scared.”
I smirk at that. Walking to the minibar, I take out the vodka and whiskey. “What do you want?”
She saunters over to the table where the champagne stands in the ice bucket. “Nothing too strong for me.” Popping the cork, she pours two glasses and hands me one. “Want to talk about it?”
I sit down on the edge of the bed. “Not particularly.”
She takes the chair and studies me as she takes a sip. “Mm. This is good stuff. Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but Zoe isn’t right for you.”
Rubbing a hand over my face, I say, “You’re right. I don’t want to hear it.”
“She doesn’t have what it takes to be with a man like you. She needs regular. You know? A nice guy with a nine-to-five job.”
“I am a nice guy with a nine-to-five job.”
She snorts. “You gave it all up for her, and this is how she treats you.”
My muscles tense, tightening my shoulders. “Did you come here to criticize my wife?”
“I knew this was going to happen. I knew she was going to dump you and throw it all back into your face.”
“So,” I lean back on an arm, “you came here to tell me I told you so?”
She leaves the glass on the table and gets to her feet. Walking over to me, she unzips the dress. “I came here to offer you consolation.”
Her perfume makes my nostrils itch. It’s young and sophisticated like green apples and cherry blossoms. It’s nothing like roses.
Stepping out of her panties, she bunches them in a fist and drags them over my chin before bending down and bundling them in my jacket pocket while whispering in my ear, “You can even keep the trophy.”
I shove her away. “Stop it, Fran. Don’t embarrass yourself.”
She stumbles a step. Hurt twists with tears in her eyes. “I waited for you. I waited for you, Maxime. I waited for this day.”
“For the day Zoe kicks me out?”
She reaches for me. “For the day you realize how wrong you’ve been about her.”
Catching her wrist, I stand. “I’ve been wrong about some things, but Zoe isn’t one of them.”
She yanks free of my hold. “How can you be so blind? You used to be the boss. What are you now, Max? Huh? What have you become for her? A weak man, a pussy. With me, that would’ve never happened.”
Her words run off me like water. They don’t move me. They don’t spark anger. They don’t matter. I don’t care. I do see now that keeping Fran on my payroll was a mistake.
“I thought you’d moved on,” I say. “Clearly, that was my error.”
“What?” Nostrils flaring, she locks her fingers into fists. “What are you saying?”
“It’ll be better that you hand in your resignation than letting me fire you.”
Her face goes white. “I need that job.”
“I’ll give you a good letter of recommendation. I can even put in
