Bound To A Scarred Billionaire: Can Love Bloom From Ashes?

She could have kept her distance and asked to leave, but that wasn't what she wanted. Instead of backing down, she chose to push him further.

Carolina reached for his hand and held it, guiding his fingers with quiet intent. She watched his reaction closely, noticing the shift in his expression as his control began to slip.

He responded without hesitation, his movements drawing her closer to that edge she could barely hold back from. For a moment, everything slowed as he adjusted, giving her time to steady herself.

"Maximo!" she cried out soon after, her voice breaking as the feeling overwhelmed her.

"Aaah... you're—" he muttered under his breath, unable to finish as he gave in to the moment.

One of his hands braced against the car while the other stayed firm at her waist. He leaned into her, his head resting against her shoulder as his breathing grew uneven.

"Oh..." she murmured when the moment passed and he pulled away.

Without saying anything, he lifted her back into the car and secured her seatbelt. Then he returned to the driver's side and started the engine. The road stretched ahead of them, and neither spoke.

During the drive, Carolina turned inward, frustrated with herself. She had let him pull her in again, when she should have resisted.

"Honestly..." she whispered under her breath.

At the same time, Maximo wrestled with his own thoughts. He couldn't make sense of it. No one would choose to be close to him like that. Yet Carolina had done it so easily. She had known exactly how to affect him, how to push him until he lost himself, even if only for a moment.

After the car came to a stop, Carolina reached for the door handle, but his grip on her arm stopped her. Her eyes followed the path of his touch as she traced upward along his arm, across his chest, until her fingers reached his face.

"What is it?" she asked, though her tone came out sharper than she meant.

He narrowed his eyes at her, irritation flashing across his expression. In his mind, she came off as completely ungrateful.

"I was only asking you to wait so I could help you with the stairs. There's no reason to snap at me," he said, his patience slipping.

"You're saying I was rude?"

"You looked at me like I did something wrong." He shut his eyes for a moment and drew in a breath before continuing. "Just let me help you, alright?"

She gave a small nod.

"What a difficult woman." He thought as he moved around the car and came to her side.

His gaze dropped without meaning to, and the sight of her lips pulled his focus. The thought lingered longer than it should have, stirring something he had already tried to push down.

"Pull yourself together," he muttered under his breath.

"Take this," he said, handing her the key. "Lock the car once I close the door."

She agreed without argument.

As he bent down, she instinctively wrapped an arm around his neck. One arm slid beneath her knees, the other behind her back, and he lifted her out with ease. The door shut moments later, and she pressed the button, locking the car.

From a distance, Dolores spotted them approaching. At first, a smile crossed her face, but it vanished the moment she noticed the bandage on Carolina's foot. Concern took over as she hurried toward them.

"Oh, madam!"

"Dolores, go open my bedroom. Carolina will stay there with me."

Her lips parted in surprise as she looked at him, but he noticed and chose not to react.

The moment he stepped inside and shut the door behind them, she finally took the time to study the room. The last time she had been there, everything had been swallowed in darkness, so she hadn't seen a thing.

Compared to her own space, which felt lighter and more orderly, his room carried a heavier tone. The walls were painted in dark gray, except for one section behind the television that stood out in a softer shade. The bedding followed the same darker palette. The window had a film covering the glass, and thick blackout curtains blocked any light from coming through.

"It makes sense it would stay this dark."

He lowered her onto the bed, and heat rushed to her face as the memory of their first night surfaced.

"Why am I staying here?" she asked. "Is there something wrong with my room?"

"This isn't about your comfort. It's about mine."

A crease formed between her brows while he sat down and removed his shoe.

"I don't follow."

Without turning toward her, he answered, "I need to keep you where I can see you. Your foot is injured, and someone has to take care of you. The staff won't stay in your room overnight, so I will. I'm not going to keep walking back and forth in the middle of the night just to check on you."

"Oh..." she said softly. "I could just message you. That way, you wouldn't have to keep coming to my room to—"

"Do you want to take a bath?" he cut in. The interruption bothered her, but she held back her response. Carolina had no intention of starting another argument.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're not just planning to help me bathe, are you?"

A careless shrug followed.

"Does that bother you?"

Her head moved in a quiet refusal.

"No."

"Good. Then let's take care of those clothes."

His tone carried a playful edge, and when she studied his face, even with the mask hiding part of it, she could still tell he meant every word.

"And I used to hate men like this... now I'm here, thinking it feels right. Get a hold of yourself, Carolina."

His hands moved with care as he undressed her, his touch unhurried. Every now and then, he pressed soft kisses along her skin. The mask got in the way a little, but not enough to stop him.

"Maximo?" she called. A low "hmm?" came from him, his focus still on her as he continued. "Why won't you kiss me?"

He lingered for a moment before pulling back slightly.

"I already kissed you earlier, didn't I?" he replied.

Her eyes stayed on him. "That was different. Why not now?"

"The mask's in the way."

"Then take it off," she said, as if it were nothing at all.

"No." His answer came fast. "If I take it off, you won't want me to kiss you." He turned away from her, his hand lifting to touch the mask. "I'm not something you'd want to see."

"I don't think that's true," she responded, her voice steady. A short laugh slipped out of him.

"You've only seen the part that's still intact. What the fire did... it's not something anyone wants to look at." His voice dropped. "Not even me."

His words settled heavily between them.

For a moment, she thought about pushing him, about asking him to try anyway. But what if he was right? What if her reaction betrayed her? The thought alone made her hesitate.

"It's your face," she said in the end. "You decide what you're comfortable with. I won't push you."

"At least she knows when to stop."

"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up." A faint smile appeared on his lips.