I Slept With My Boss Then Married Him

Elizabeth Cox knew there was no escape. Her eyes were damp, pleading, as she looked at Maximilian Carter. "Could we turn off the lights?" she whispered.

"Not a chance," Maximilian replied, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips as he took in her flushed face.

God, she wanted to bolt. Her fingers hovered over the front of his trousers, but she couldn't summon the nerve to undo them. Maximilian just watched her, patient, his gaze steady.

The bathroom was thick with steam, the light softened into a hazy glow. Elizabeth felt painfully awkward. The hot water had chased the chill from her body, but her clothes clung to her skin, uncomfortable and damp. She looked up at Maximilian, hoping he might let her off the hook. He looked infuriatingly calm, his dark eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her shyly look away.

Only then did Elizabeth notice the blood sliding down Maximilian's arm. "You're bleeding. Did this happen earlier, when you got hit?" she asked, lifting his muscular arm to inspect it.

Mixed with the hot water, the blood ran down his arm in thin, alarming streams. Maximilian glanced down and nodded. "Yeah. I'll need a little help from you."

Guilt twisted in Elizabeth's stomach. If he hadn't been protecting her, that piece of metal would never have struck him. She hadn't even realized he'd pulled her in with that same arm.

"Then let me wash you first," she offered, her cheeks flushed with concern.

"All right," Maximilian said, his gaze softening as he watched her.

As Elizabeth undid the button and pulled down his zipper, heat rushed into her face and burned all the way to her ears.

She eased his pants down, took several deep breaths, and cautiously lowered his underwear. The moment her soap-slick hands touched his skin, Maximilian tensed. His eyes shut, and a low groan slipped out before he could stop it.

He'd meant to tease her. Instead, he was the one getting caught up.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth watched him grab a towel, wrap it around his waist, and step out. Her face burned, but she didn't dare say a word.

She thought about covering her face in embarrassment but stopped herself. Her hands had just touched places they'd never touched before.

"This is so awkward," Elizabeth muttered, clenching her fists and splashing the water. The whole situation was more thrilling than a roller-coaster ride—and ten times more embarrassing.

She took a few deep breaths, stripped off her clothes, and washed her hair and body in a hurry.

After drying her hair, Elizabeth pulled on one of Maximilian's shirts. It felt too revealing. With nothing underneath, she felt exposed and drafty, so she added one of his robes.

In the oversized clothes, she looked like a kid playing dress-up. The sleeves swallowed her hands, and the robe dragged across the floor.

Feeling ridiculous but determined to keep her composure, Elizabeth walked out of the bathroom.

Maximilian was sitting on the bed, changed into comfortable loungewear. His arm was bandaged, and his hair fell softly around his face. He looked relaxed—almost charming—nothing like the polished executive from work.

"You bandaged that yourself?" she asked.

"Yes." His eyes were cool and composed as they flicked to her. "There's cream for swelling. Put some on your face."

Elizabeth touched her face instinctively. It was still sore and a little puffy from earlier. She'd hoped her hair would hide it, but of course he'd noticed.

"Okay. I'll go to sleep, then," Elizabeth said, taking the cream and turning to leave.

"There aren't any extra blankets. You can sleep here tonight," Maximilian said.

"What?" Elizabeth's eyes went wide. She felt like she was sinking deeper into a trap.

Was it too late to run?

"Relax. I won't touch you tonight," Maximilian assured her. His tone was calm, with no suggestive undertone.

Elizabeth stood frozen, clearly conflicted.

When she didn't move, Maximilian dimmed the lights and stretched out on the bed. "If I wanted to, it would've happened already."

Elizabeth's face went bright red. "Could you not be so blunt?" she mumbled, biting her lip. Her eyes trembled with embarrassment as she looked at him.

Why was he always so calm? So ready to say things like that out loud?

"Real love between adults is shown, not just talked about. Am I wrong?" Maximilian asked, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he took in her nervous fidgeting.

"It makes you sound like a scoundrel," Elizabeth protested. Maximilian chuckled.

"All right. Next time I'll be more subtle. Go to sleep."

He was surprisingly easy to sway, and that threw her. At the office, he'd shredded her for using the wrong template on a project proposal. Now he was... agreeable?

"Um, I..." She hesitated.

"Still awake?" he asked, his voice carrying that familiar authority. It made Elizabeth drop her hesitation immediately.

"I'm going to put on the cream," she said.

She beat a quick retreat to the bathroom, took a series of deep breaths, and then returned.

Back in the bedroom, she still felt uneasy.

"How about I get you a cup of coffee? Help you relax?" Maximilian offered, watching her gloomy expression.

Elizabeth shook her head hard. "No, thank you."

"My schedule: in bed by nine-thirty, no phones after lights out," he said, matter-of-fact.

"Seriously?" Elizabeth stared at him.

"Yes."

Wow. Stricter than her high school dorm rules.

"And when do you wake up?"

"Six."

Elizabeth blinked in disbelief.

"Do your own thing. Just don't stay up too late," he said.

"Okay, okay."

Surprisingly considerate. He wasn't demanding she keep the same schedule.

Elizabeth shuffled toward the bed, taking a good few minutes to settle on the edge. The bed had to be over two meters wide, but she curled up on the very edge as if a vast chasm separated them.

"Should I turn up the heat? You seem cold," Maximilian said, taking in her robe-covered form.

Once she was under the covers, Elizabeth slipped off the robe and hid it beneath the blankets.

Maximilian didn't say a word.

She lay there perfectly still, stiff as a board, while the night settled around them. The room went quiet. The two of them lay there, almost comically polite.

The day's events had left Elizabeth restless, and sleep refused to come. After ten quiet minutes, she decided Maximilian had to be asleep and started to fidget.

She flipped onto her back, sank into the cool softness of the silk sheets, then rolled onto her stomach and poked at the pillow. Small sounds filled the quiet room.

Maximilian sighed, reached out, and pulled her close.

"If you can't sleep, maybe we should do something else," he suggested.

Elizabeth jolted, caught off guard as he drew her into his arms.

Her loose shirt shifted. Maximilian's hand found the small of her back and pressed her closer, his grip firm.

Strong and assertive, he let her feel the heat rolling off his body—and the unmistakable effect it had on him.