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With all these things heavy on my mind, I walked into my room and stopped short, barely containing the yelp of surprise that clawed up my throat.
Malachi lounged shirtless, on my bed, hands tucked behind his head as if he hadn’t a worry in the world. He grinned, and maybe it was a touch sheepish, but mostly it was confident and cocky.
Well, that was irritating.
Did he not hear the part about grovelling?
I narrowed my eyes, even as my heart raced at just the sight of him. He was gorgeous. My ladybits were already screaming that truth from behind the robe.
“Who let you in?”
“Helena.”
Hm, he gave his accomplice away without even a breath of hesitation. But I knew any of the others would’ve let him in too. They’d had a terrific laugh over my rant earlier and the fact that Malachi overheard all of it.
Bypassing the bed-- and him-- I stood in front of the mirror and unwrapped my hair, dragging a comb through it before scrunching the curls with a fresh towel.
Malachi followed me over, standing behind me to watch. “Is this your natural state?” he asked with a smirk.
“Yep,” I snipped. “No makeup. Wet hair, don’t care. Bathrobe made for an eighty-year-old man to cover my blotchy skin because the shower was too hot.” I turned around, tossing him a shit-eating grin. “How do you like me now?”
Was I goading him? Yes. Why? I didn’t know.
It wasn’t because he’d done anything wrong, really. Notreally. It was more like I needed him to see the truth. Me, without all the bells and whistles. Because if we were ever going to be more than this, he had to choose me fully.
His job was always going to be there. The fancy women were part of his day-to-day dealings. They weren’t going anywhere. And people like Miss Handsy would always want him no matter how much he declined their advances.
I needed to know he was mine completely. Because after today, I was a hundred percent sure of one thing: Maisy does. not. share.
“How do I like you now?” he laughed. “Better. I like you even better.”
Oh.
His thumb caressed my cheek, drawing downward to the corner of my mouth. “Did you think you could change my mind about you by wearing a bathrobe?”
Before I could answer, there was a knock on the door and he pulled his hand away.
“You should get that,” he said. “Could be important.”
My legs didn’t want to work, but I made my way to the door and found a bellman waiting for me on the other side.
“Delivery for Maisy,” he said, squinting at the card. “Rhymes with Daisy?”
“That’s me,” I confirmed.
“Perfect.” He waved to someone nearby and stepped aside.
Several more bellmen entered the room, each carrying dozens of roses in each arm, some in vases, some loosely bundled with ruby ribbon. “Where would you like them, ma’am?”
Somehow, I picked my jaw up off the floor to answer. “Uh, anywhere. Wherever you can find space. Th-thanks.”
I watched in shock as Malachi tipped them each and then shut the door behind them.
“What is this?” I asked when he turned back to me.
He took my hand, finding my gaze. “The beginnings of an apology,” he said. “First of all, Maisy, I’m so very sorry you had to see what happened with Widow Milton. I can’t imagine what that felt like. I tried to.” He swallowed hard. “Tried to imagine how it would’ve felt if I’d walked up to see you in some other man’s arms and…” His jaw turned hard, his voice rasping with contained fury. “I didn’t like it. Not at all. So, to make it better, I wanted to fill your space with pretty things to get that ugly image out of your mind.”
Oh, wow. That was so… thoughtful.
