Yet internally, she could distinctly feel the changes rippling through her body, noting how her breasts had already grown fuller.
Click. The bathroom door suddenly swung open. Startled, Felicia whipped around. Seeing the man strolling casually into the room, she reflexively snatched up her dress to cover her bare front. "What are you doing in here?" she demanded, annoyance flaring in her chest.
Max's gaze swept over her exposed skin, his eyes instantly darkening with heat. His tone, however, was a picture of sincerity as he apologized. "Sorry. I didn't hear the water running, so I assumed you weren't in here." Despite the polite apology, he made absolutely no move to turn around and leave.
Felicia's fingers gripped the fabric against her chest like a lifeline. "Then get out," she snapped, her brow furrowing.
Instead, the corner of Max's mouth lifted into a lazy smirk, and he took a slow step toward her.
"You..." she sputtered.
He closed the distance without hesitation, planting one hand flat against the mirror right beside her head. As he leaned in, his tall frame caged her in, radiating an overwhelming, masculine heat that made her heart race. Forced backward, Felicia's bare spine pressed flush against the frigid glass of the mirror. She stared up at him, her eyes wide with apprehension.
"What are you afraid of?" he murmured, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "It is not like I haven't seen all of you before. Or if it makes you feel better, you can look at me to even the score."
Seeing him lean even closer, she brought one hand up, bracing it firmly against his solid shoulder to physically wedge some space between them. Her expression darkened with warning. "Max, I mean it. Get out."
Max lowered his eyes, studying the woman trapped beneath him. He didn't miss the sharp glint of resistance, tension, and genuine anger swirling in her gaze. She was terrified he was going to touch her. Very terrified.
When he remained entirely motionless, Felicia's heart began to pound a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Terrified that a single misstep would ignite a spark neither of them could control, she raised her voice. "Max!"
Relenting at last, Max dropped his hand from the glass and straightened to his full, towering height. His voice was suddenly remarkably clear and composed. "Get dressed."
With that, he turned, walked out of the bathroom, and clicked the door shut behind him. Watching him disappear, Felicia remained slumped against the mirror, exhaling a long, shaky breath.
The intense spike of anxiety had caused a noticeable tightening in her lower abdomen. She stood there until the discomfort finally ebbed away, then slipped into her dress and stepped out of the bathroom. The master bedroom was completely empty. Relieved, she walked out into the hallway just as Anne emerged from her own room, fresh and clean.
After dinner, the two of them sat in the living room playing with Anne. It didn't take long for the little girl to tire out, her eyes growing heavy with sleep. Seeing her drift off, Max instructed the nanny to carry her up to bed. When Felicia returned from the powder room, she found the living room empty save for Max.
"Where is Anne?" she asked.
"She fell asleep. I had the nanny take her upstairs," he replied. He patted the empty space on the sofa beside him, the invitation clear. "Come sit for a bit."
Felicia eyed him warily. After hesitating for a few seconds, she finally sat down, making sure to leave a sizable cushion of space between them. Max merely shifted closer, smoothly sliding an arm around her shoulders while resting his other hand lightly over her lower stomach. He glanced down at the spot his palm covered.
"I saw you inspecting yourself in the mirror earlier. Are you really that terrified of gaining a little weight?"
Felicia froze. Her mind raced back to the moment he had barged into the bathroom. He must have seen her with her hand pressed against her stomach. Her nerves pulled taut instantly. Was he truly oblivious, or was this a calculated test?

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