Divorce Countdown: The CEO Moves Right In

ws, illuminated only by a single, dim lamp on the bedside table. He leaned against the doorframe, trying to clear his

the familiar sp

the window, a figure was curled u

hrough the drug-induced haze. He strode a

as C

rlier, but the top button had come undone, revealing the delicate curve of her collarbone. The

rabbed her arm, intending to haul her off the chai

The first thing she saw was his face, twisted with a fury she didn't understand, and hi

something potent, and her presence here was, in his mind, the fi

ther walk through fire than touch th

d him. He twisted the shower knob as far as it would go, and an icy torrent of water cascaded over his head. He stoo

oment of clarity before the heat returned, more demanding than before. And through th

ut there, curled up in that chair, waiting for him, a sm

er onto the antique rug, a towel hastily wrapped around his waist. He lo

round herself like a shield. She was awake now, her eyes wide with fear a

zed her wrist, his grip like iron. "Why," he hiss

s bare, wet chest. She could feel the unnatural heat ra

he stammered, trying to

hands on either side of her head, trapping her. His face was inches from hers, his hot, ragged breath fanning across her skin. The