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.

"You're... not asleep?"

Maximilian Carter was still awake—which was saying something, since he was usually in bed by nine-thirty. Now it was nearly midnight.

"Hard to sleep with all this heat," he murmured, his warm breath brushing Elizabeth Cox's ear.

Her heart fluttered at how close they were, and his whispered words only made it worse. She stayed silent, stiff, barely daring to move as their breathing grew heavier in the dim light.

Maximilian's hand wandered somewhere it shouldn't, pulling Elizabeth closer against his chest as she tried to shy away from his burning touch. "I'm really tired," she whispered. Her small hand clutched his shirt, her voice soft and a little nasal, and the sound made Maximilian's chest ache with want.

"Can you really sleep like this?"

"Mmm," Elizabeth nodded nervously, her tiny toes curling tight as he lifted her leg. She stopped him, whispering, "We shouldn't."

"You woke me up. You can't refuse me now," Maximilian murmured, nibbling at her flushed earlobe. His husky voice sent her pulse racing.

She regretted tossing and turning earlier. Now her thoughts of home faded as Maximilian's presence overwhelmed her senses. He wrapped her in his arms, pressing her soft, warm body beneath his.

Elizabeth's shirt might as well have not existed. Their bodies melded together, warmth and breath tangled.

"It rained tonight. Let's sleep. You might catch a cold," she trembled, clinging to his wandering hand.

In the dim light, his hot palm against her skin pulled a soft sigh from her. Maximilian swallowed hard, moving in and capturing her lips with his. "Let's warm things up, then."

With that kiss, her words disappeared, and his suppressed desire finally broke loose. Raw need drove Maximilian to indulge in the woman before him.

He knew every sensitive spot on her body, making her melt into him—surrendering.

A night of passion unfolded, leaving Elizabeth breathless—and surprised by his seemingly endless vigor. Anyone who claimed Maximilian had no interest in women would have to answer to her now—his reserved exterior hid an untapped fire.

The next morning, after the storm, the air was refreshingly crisp.

Sunlight warmed the room where Elizabeth lay, held securely in Maximilian's arms. Her hair spilled across the pillow like long, silky water, and her petite face was serene in sleep.

But the workday rhythm intruded, jolting her awake. She glanced at the clock—and panicked.

It was 9:30 a.m.!

Her perfect attendance record was at risk. Hastily, she threw back the covers, wincing as soreness reminded her of last night's intensity.

Turning her head, she saw her boss still asleep beside her.

In those few seconds, a whirlwind of emotions tore through her.

Her movement stirred Maximilian. His long lashes fluttered open, revealing eyes still hazy with sleep.

"Um, it's 9:30. I'm late," Elizabeth stammered, her pulse racing.

"Take the day off," Maximilian said. His voice was low and clear, a command that carried undeniable authority even fresh from sleep.

Elizabeth blinked, her heart rate slowly returning to normal. "What about my attendance bonus?"

"I'll cover it."

Relieved, Elizabeth brightened. "Okay. You rest a bit more. I'll make breakfast. Half a day off is fine."

"Alright," Maximilian rumbled in agreement.

Carefully lifting his arm from her waist, Elizabeth noticed his intense gaze lingering on her. His dark eyes held a humor only she could read, tracing her features like a gentle caress.

Feeling unexpectedly self-conscious—and very aware of her lack of clothes—Elizabeth turned and pulled the covers over his head, shielding herself from his gaze.

Maximilian, unfazed, lay still as she hurried into the bathroom. Once she was out of sight, he sat up and uncovered himself.

The austere room seemed to come alive.

Running a hand through his hair, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for the wardrobe.

The previous night had left a mark. Next to the old bite mark, a new, delicate one appeared.

She couldn't resist leaving her mark.

Elizabeth got ready quickly, hoping to dodge any awkwardness—or further entanglement under the same roof—by heading to the kitchen.

Truth be told, she was hungry.

Opening the large, modern refrigerator, she was stunned.

Rows of alcohol lined the shelves—nothing but alcohol...

The freezer was empty.

"Your fridge is stocked with nothing but drinks?"

"I never cook at home. I'll take you out," Maximilian said, coming downstairs in an impeccable suit, carrying her phone and passport.

Elizabeth blinked, taken aback, and closed the fridge door.

Maximilian went to start the car, and Elizabeth found herself standing before a luxury vehicle she'd only heard her colleagues talk about.

Never had she imagined she'd actually ride in one.

"Sit up front," Maximilian offered, opening the passenger door for her.

Tentatively—yet resigned—she got in.

"Are we going to the...?"

"The civil registry."

"Shouldn't we see a lawyer first? Isn't there a prenup to sign?"

"No need. We can sign the paperwork today," Maximilian replied, looking effortlessly sophisticated in his suit. His words were direct, giving off the air of a distant man who was hard to reach.

"But you're so wealthy. Aren't rich people usually particular about that sort of thing?"

"If you can't trust your own woman, what kind of man does that make you?" Maximilian said as he drove, his tone firm but composed.

His answer struck at the independent values she held so dear.

She looked at him, bathed in golden morning light, his features even more striking.

He looked like strength and integrity wrapped in a tailored suit—a model of masculine excellence.

"What are you smiling about?" Maximilian asked, glancing at her.

"You, Mr. Carter, are so... manly. The epitome of a true gentleman," Elizabeth praised.

Compared to the conniving men she'd known, Maximilian seemed like the perfect gentleman—wealthy, handsome, and completely without pettiness.

"Sounds like you've met quite a few swindlers," Maximilian remarked, his voice steady.

Elizabeth's smile faltered for a beat as she reconsidered what she'd said earlier about Maximilian's fairness.

Maximilian Carter had planned to take Elizabeth out for breakfast, but she insisted on avoiding public dining for fear of being recognized. Left with no choice, Maximilian settled for takeout.

"No eating in the car," Maximilian said, every inch the perfectionist.

"I'll wait and eat later," Elizabeth promised, clutching the fancy breakfast package. Her appetite was no match for the sheer force of Maximilian's presence.

At the civil registry, Elizabeth was practically glowing as they filled out forms and posed for a photo, savoring every second. Twenty minutes later, breakfast and paperwork were both done, and the marriage certificate was in their hands. Staring at the photo they had taken together left Elizabeth a little dazed. She was married now—and her husband was Maximilian Carter.

"By the way, I forgot to ask about your family…" Elizabeth began.

"My parents died when I was young. It's just my grandmother and me. I'll take you to meet her," Maximilian replied.

Elizabeth was caught off guard by how simple his family situation was. Simple was good, she thought—especially compared with her own complicated family dynamics, which often felt suffocating. "Let's go see Grandma, then. Is there anything I should know?"

"Nothing special. Just that we should seem very much in love," Maximilian said seriously, his tone flat.

"Alright," Elizabeth nodded obediently.

After a half-hour drive, they arrived at the hospital entrance.

"I'll go buy Grandma some flowers. What does she like to eat? There's a grocery store nearby," Elizabeth suggested.

"No need. Let's go straight in," Maximilian replied decisively.

"Oh no, it's important to be polite. Besides, what woman doesn't appreciate flowers—even a grandmother?" Elizabeth insisted with determination.

Unlike Maximilian's indifference, Elizabeth wanted their first meeting to be memorable. Considering his impressive status and broad business interests, she imagined he must value his grandmother highly.

"Fine. I'll park the car and join you," Maximilian agreed, pulling over to let Elizabeth out.

"No need. I'll pick quickly by myself," Elizabeth said, putting on sunglasses to avoid being recognized.

Maximilian watched her carefully but didn't question her intentions.

After leaving Elizabeth to her task, he handed the car keys to a valet at the hospital entrance and caught up with her.

"Why did you come along?" Elizabeth asked, glancing around nervously.

"I thought you might not know Grandma's preferences," Maximilian explained, his gaze steady and detached.

"Oh, I have a general idea. Older people probably shouldn't eat fruit that's too cold or hard," Elizabeth said, taking a few steps away to keep some distance.

Maximilian noticed her attempt to keep her distance, but he found her cautious behavior amusing.

Once Maximilian joined her, passersby began to take notice—especially a few excited young women who admired him. Intimidated by his aloof demeanor, none approached.

"Why aren't you wearing sunglasses? Here," Elizabeth quickly pulled out a new pair and offered them to him. "Put them on."

Maximilian glanced down but didn't accept them. "Do I look inappropriate?" he asked.

"No, it's just that you're too handsome. We agreed to keep a low profile, remember?" Elizabeth said, her eyes showing concern from behind her sunglasses.

Expressionless, Maximilian took the sunglasses and put them on. His already handsome face, now half-hidden behind them, only added to his mysterious charm—a cold, untouchable allure.

Elizabeth overheard nearby young women speculating whether they were filming a movie, dubbing him the next big star.

Her head dipped lower. She wished she could disappear and avoid the fuss.

Maximilian shot a piercing glance at the group, silencing the chatter instantly. His look was icy and authoritative.

"Maximilian, maybe next time wear a hat," Elizabeth suggested softly. "I'm a bit socially anxious."

Or maybe she should cover herself from head to toe. But then again, maybe today was the only time they'd be out together.

"What did you call me? Hmm?" Maximilian asked, stepping closer to Elizabeth, who felt caught out.

Elizabeth sensed his cool presence close to her. Looking up, she met his inscrutable gaze, both serene and imposing. "Maximilian," she whispered timidly.

His eyes narrowed slightly, a shadow of displeasure passing over them.

Elizabeth blinked. Could she have been mistaken?

His intense gaze made her uneasy, so she hurried into the flower shop and pretended to browse.

"I'll take your finest bouquet of pink carnations," Elizabeth quickly instructed the florist, avoiding Maximilian's watchful eyes.

Maximilian stood quietly to the side, observing her meticulous choice with extraordinary patience.

After selecting the flowers, Elizabeth picked out a fresh fruit basket. She carried the flowers while Maximilian held the fruit basket, and together they headed to the hospital.

Grandma Carter had been eagerly waiting for them, lighting up with joy when they arrived.

"Hello, Grandma. I'm Elizabeth. It's a bit rushed, but I picked these carnations for you. Wishing you a quick recovery and many happy years," Elizabeth said warmly.

"Oh my, how lovely! Come here, let Grandma have a look," Grandma Carter beamed, her once pale face rejuvenated with joy as she pulled Elizabeth closer to admire her.

Beside Grandma Carter, her caregiver, Sue, accepted the flowers and fruit basket, while Maximilian arranged a chair by the bedside.

Elizabeth admired Grandma's graceful presence despite her frailty, reflecting her noble upbringing. Yet there was no arrogance—only overwhelming warmth and kindness.

"So rushed, I haven't had time to prepare a gift for this meeting," Grandma Carter said, eagerly removing her pearl bracelet as a token for Elizabeth.

While Elizabeth couldn't gauge its value, she knew the bracelet was exquisite—likely priceless. Overwhelmed, she looked to Maximilian for guidance.

Maximilian's dark eyes noticed her hesitation. "Grandma, you love that bracelet. Keep it. Besides, giving away your favorite bracelet as the only wedding gift might not be appropriate," he advised steadily.

Maximilian retrieved the marriage certificate and their photo from his suit pocket and handed them to Grandma Carter.

Grandma's eyes gleamed with delight as she put on her reading glasses to examine it closely.

"You rascal. No wonder you refused all my introductions. You found such a wonderful girl yourself. The photo turned out beautifully. Sue, take good care of these. I'll look at it every day—maybe I'll get better," Grandma Carter said, her face radiant with pleasure as she passed the certificate and photo to Sue for safekeeping.

Elizabeth found Grandma delightful. But what if they divorced? How would they explain the certificate?

She lingered on the marriage certificate, trying to signal Maximilian to stop Grandma from taking it away.