His Unwanted Bride: The Substitute's Secret

r fingers were still

d, his movements fluid and de

ne by one, he began to fasten the buttons of his shirt. The motion was precise, methodical, li

er nightgown clung to her, outlining a body that was rigid with a shame so cold it felt like fe

abric against skin. The silence was a physical weight, press

that cost more than a car. He didn't put it on. Instead, he

metal against stone

, and she finally found the courage to lift her head and look at his back. The cus

y rasp, barely aud

on

s quiet, flat, and more cutting

held no heat, only a chilling mix of offense and sheer, unadulterated confusio

in her throat, choking her. She dropped her gaze to the intricate floral pattern

armchair. His tone was that of a CEO stating a quarterly loss. "The

the words hang in t

her huddled form, the vast empty space o

harp, grounding pain was a welcome distra

estige. Her older sister, Ivette, the one everyone expected him to marry, had run off to Europe with an a

, his hand resting on

He stopped, a silhouette agains

chest. Maybe he would turn back. Maybe he would say s

l cold, the question posed with the d

d in. I never understood. Why d

er ribs with surgical precision, straight int

o, leaving her skin as white as the sheets she

icker of annoyance crossed his face. He hadn't really wan

open and walked out

. It was a soft, final sound that lande

was

omb. All the strength she had used to keep herse

e small, pale brown mole on the inside of her wrist.

t answer hi

dared to touch it herself. It was a dark room in the back of her

s, horribly famili

carpet as she made her way to the en-suite bathroom. The room was al

e, haunted eyes. Her light blue irises, usually

It was a practiced, familiar movement. She tipped two sm