Page 86 of What Doesn't Kill You…

Max was a driven beast. There was only one thought in his head. He needed to be inside Violet. He needed her with a ferocity he'd never before experienced, and it shook him to the core. With one powerful thrust, he plunged inside her welcoming body, and, for an instant, time stopped. His problems and disappointments faded to nothing. All he could do was feel the soul-saving presence of the woman beneath him. He inhaled her heady, addictive scent and sighed with pleasure.

And then he began to move.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Violet wasn't even surprised when she woke sprawled over Max. Apparently, that was how she slept now. She glanced at the phone beside the bed and saw it was barely nine in the evening. Through the skylight she saw a heavy greenish gray sky had stolen all the daylight. Outside, the wind howled its displeasure and rain beat the earth. Thunder rumbled and a flash of lightning briefly lit up the gray. The storm was in full fury now.

Carefully, so as not to wake Max, Violet climbed off her human perch and slid onto the floor beside the bed. He was sound asleep, probably exhausted from the overwhelming news that his story was dead. Her heart had ached for him when he'd been standing out on the patio. He'd looked like a man who'd lost hope, and she couldn't bear the sight. That was why she'd gone to him. Nothing more.

Briefly, she wondered what her family would think when they hadn't joined them in the bar for a night of live music and dancing—if it was still on in this weather. Then she remembered lunch, where Marigold had declared that Max and Violet were leaving to consummate their marriage and they might not see them for a while. It would have been humiliating if Poppy hadn't said, "Why would they eat their marriage?" For once she'd been grateful the Lee clan came without a filter.

On tiptoes, Violet headed for the bathroom, where she had a quick shower, grateful the noise of the storm would cover any sound she might make. Max needed to sleep. It was the best thing for him. Tomorrow, they'd deal with the problem of Damien.

Once out of the shower, she dried off before paying a quick visit to the toilet. And that's when things went to hell.

She was finishing up when there was a thud against the door. Fearing the worst, Violet lunged at the panel, ready to throw it open and deal with whatever threat was on the other side.

Only, the door didn't budge.

She shook it hard, but it didn't move. What the hell? She hadn't locked it. Anxious now, she feared Damien had used the cover of the storm to send someone to deal with Max. She thumped her fist on the door.

"Let me out of here," she demanded. "Do not touch Max Durant. I swear, I will hunt you down and skin you alive if you do."

"I'm sorry, Violet," Max said through the door.

Max?

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she bellowed. "Open this door right now."

"I can't," Max said. "You'll stop me, and I need to do this." He sounded resolved.

"What exactly do you plan on doing that doesn't involve taking your bodyguard with you?" But she was afraid she already knew the answer.

"I'm going to get the evidence I need to put Damien away for good," the fool said.

"And how exactly are you going to get your evidence? Do you plan on walking up to his estate and asking him what criminal activity he might be involved in?"

"I don't need to," he said. "Damien left the island to go meet his partner. There's nobody on the estate. Don't you see? Now is the best time to sneak in and have a look around."

"No, it isn't," Violet snapped. "He won't have left the place unguarded. There will still be armed men and security cameras. You're not equipped to deal with either."

"I've thought about it, and I'm going to knock the cameras out with rocks. The security team will blame the storm. As for the guards, I don't plan on meeting any of them. I'm just going to snoop around the house, take some photos, and leave."

"This is the craziest plan I've ever heard." She thumped the door again. "You have no experience doing this kind of thing. Let me out and I'll help you. I'll go with you."

"No, you won't." He barked a laugh. "You'll tie me up, or drug me, or do something else to stop me from going. You're just mad because I got there first and confined you before you could do the same to me."

He wasn't wrong. "Max, this is not how things work between us. You're the one who talks things through and I'm the one who communicates physically, remember?" She said the words through her teeth, trying to sound calm and reasonable and not quite pulling it off.

"I thought I'd try it your way for a change," he said. "Got to say, I can see the appeal. This is a lot faster than trying to reason with somebody."

"Max!" Violet bellowed, her attempt at patience shattered. Oh well, it was half-hearted at best anyway. "Let me out of here right now."

"I can't do it, Vi," Max said, sounding far too reasonable. "This is my only chance at bringing this guy down and I can't let anything get in the way, even you."

"You're a journalist. Not a field operative. You've no idea what you're doing."

"Probably," he said. "But I have the weather on my side—nobody is going to be out in this rain. And, like I said before, Damien isn't even on the island. This is as safe as it's going to get, and don't worry, I'll be careful."