"Then don't."

There, she said it. Eyes fluttering open just a little fraction, she was melted in his arms. She clutched his shoulders for support while his hands still cupped her flushed face, she was warm all over from that one kiss. The sensual moves of his mouth did not just weaken her knees, it bloody caused her spine go inert.

She had here clearly given him the permission but felt quite frustrated seeing the hesitation in his eyes.

He wanted her. It was as clear as daylight now but still he was fighting his rotten inward battle.

His palms stiffened on her jaw, his lips were pressed into a thin line and eyes burning with torment. "Sof," he inhaled a sharp breath. "Do you even know what you've just said?"

He looked like a man possessed by a mighty demon, a demon he was having trouble containing. With his lashes wet, nose red at the tip and lips swollen from their kiss... he looked quite the sight of seduction.

The corners of her lips lifted up into a lazy smile. "I'm fully aware of my words, I mean it, Max."

If possible, he looked even more tormented. "I want our first time out of love that is mutual, Sofia, not for the heat of the moment."

Now, Sofia was getting irritated. She raised a brow. "So you mean to say you don't love me? The bloody emotional conversation we were having since the last half an hour did not have any undercover love included in it? And what about the kiss? Dare you say it heat of the moment!"

Max frowned deeply. "I never said I do not love you!"

Is this man even real!

"But you also did not say you do," Sofia pushed off his hands from her face, but she began missing his touch immediately.

His hands hung empty in mid air for a small second before they found their way around her waist lightly, stopping any way for her to escape. Sofia was highly satisfied. She was quite liking this clingy side of Max.

"Fine," she muttered and then lifted her chin with brave determination. "If you're not going to say it, then I am. And I'm going to absolutely mean it."

"Sof?" Max looked down at her surprised. "You... you mean to say... how you..."

Why was he so shocked at the idea of her being in love with him!

"Yes, now you get it... too," she threw back his earlier words with a grin.

"I lov... mmm," And she was shut up by another scalding kiss. This was fiercer than before, had a determined purpose behind and coated up with a thick layer of relief. He poured his bliss in the kiss ultimately.

"Max, I...," And then when she tried to say the three words again, he repeated the process.

After teasing her tongue with his, he slid his lips to the corner of her mouth and chuckled huskily there.

Is this man freaking alright in the head!

Why wouldn't he let her confess her love?

Sofia huffed and tipped her head back to glare up at him. "Why wouldn't you let me say it if you yourself can't?!"

Max simply smiled. "That's because," He pecked her pursed lips. "I want to do it all properly this time. I'm going to court you, take you out on dates, charm you," he pecked her lips again. "And earn your love," and he pecked those lips yet again. "And win your heart. I wish to give you every freaking thing I deprived you of."

Her face was heating from his continuous kisses. Her toes curled.

This man meant to kill her!

"But...," she managed to speak. "We're already married and are living under the same roof, have you forgotten that?"

"Forget that we're married," he stated decisively. "For from now onwards we're going to start fresh."

"That means we're going to sleep in separate rooms and separate beds too?" she tried her best not to smirk when he frowned at that.

"Except that," he announced indignantly.

Thank f*ck! Or she would have had to stoop to stealing his pillow.

Sofia shook her head, laughing. The next instant she found herself lifted up in his arms and carried to the bed just a couple feet away.

Like every night, as he pulled her against him and they both sighed now openly in contentment, she said, "This seems utterly preposterous, Max."

"What?" he muttered, nose buried in her hair.

"Your idea of courting me, of course." Her toes played with the shopping bags near their feet that they hadn't bothered removing right then, they were too cozy to even move a finger.

"Sof," he indulged sleepily. "I'm going to give you everything in my power to make you happy. I've failed you many times before but this time around, you just see how I'm going to do it right."

Sofia's eyes glossed up with emotions.

Can't he see that he wouldn't have to!

He didn't have to win her heart, it was already his. He didn't have to make her fall in love, for she had already fallen.

But she did not protest to his resolution of courtship. The reason was her eagerness to go through it, in fact she looked forward to what he was going to do. It was all so new to her. And most importantly, if her husband wanted to cherish her then who was she to stop him, and why would she?

However, she just hoped that he wouldn't stretch it too far, or she would have to bind her own husband to the bed and have her freaking way with him.

Now, that would be interesting.

--

Sofia opened her eyes to find herself in an empty bed. She yawned loudly. That had been the best sleep ever.

A smile played out on her lips as memories of last night came to her mind. Her heart did a swift flutter thinking of his words.

Oh, he's going to court her! They're going to date!

What would that make them, girlfriend-boyfriend? Or lovers? But they were already husband and wife!

Ah hell, they were going to go reverse.

She chuckled to herself in disbelief. This was so incredulous. But, hell, who knew her cunning Oxford return lawyer could be so bloody romantic!

Max walked into the room in time as she was grabbing her towel from the curtain rail of the window.

"'Morning," he smiled at her brilliantly.

"'Morning. You've already showered," she commented while Max took a seat on her unmade bed.

"Yep," he replied watching as she went to stand next to him and dug into the shopping bags of last night. "What are you doing?" he asked conversationally.

Sofia had a mischievous look on her face as she picked up blue, red and black laced undergarments and held them high before her. "Oh nothing, just choosing my clothes for the day."

Suddenly Max's face became completely serious. "You're going to wear them today? For the whole day?"

"Of course, I'm going to. Why? Did you not buy them for me to wear?" she asked innocently.

"I... did," he croaked.

Good.

"So, which one do you think would look good on me the most – this red one, or the black one?"

Max's eyes were dilated now, looking back and forth from her and the laces dangling from her hands. He blinked and then gulped. "The red one?" his voice was husky now, unsettled.

Very Good.

Sofia smiled, dropped all the other colors except that red one, took her towel, got a dress from the closet and disappeared inside the bathroom. But not before seeing Max muttering incoherent things under his breath with his eyes squeezed close.

Bloody excellent.

Behind the closed bathroom door, Sofia triumphantly smiled.

Maybe she wouldn't have to bind him to the bed, after all.

She came out of the shower to be called downstairs by a Debbie who was grinning from ear to ear. "Sir is waiting for you at the dining table, he asked you to hurry." She left supplying the message, the grin still intact.

Sofia raised her brows in suspicion. Letting her hair to air dry and not bothering with any make-up, she hurried down the stairs grabbing her bag. Curious to see what awaited.

And awaited was a beaming Max sat at his usual spot beside her chair. His eyes took a hungry look, he swallowed deeply raking his eyes on her entire form while stopping for more than a second on her chest. Inhaling a deep breath though, he reclaimed his control soon and went back to beaming at her again.

But by then, only by his unashamed eyes taking her in, she was the one who stood unsettled.

With goose bumps erupting everywhere, knees turning to jelly and bosoms pebbling in desire... she was surprised that she could walk to the table straight and didn't fall flat on her face.

With one hand he pushed back her chair and then patted it, signaling her to sit. And when she sat, and finally noticed what was for breakfast, her eyes popped open in shock—weird shaped toasts, coal omelets and something pasty looking served in two bowls that she could not recognize.

Max cleared his throat. "I made breakfast," he said, a little awkwardly, a little worriedly. "Please don't mind the looks, I'm hopeful that the taste won't be that bad."

Sofia looked up smiling despite the horror of food before her. And she placed her hand softly on his on the table, speaking with her eyes—divulgence of adoration that she could not manage to voice with words.

How can one man be so lovable with all his imperfections?

Sofia was beginning to discover that it was the flaws combined that create love, perfection alone can create no more than infatuation.

Since that memorable breakfast that announced also their official beginning of courtship, the smile on her face stayed put throughout the entire day. But that was until she received a phone call from Genevieve Mevil.

Even the best of days may halt a bit, to make way for certain struggles that are compulsory to life.