I'm Not Your Whore!

urned white. Adrian had disappeared after dinner, leaving her alone in this suffocating mansion, yet his pres

the staircase. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if s

tterly unwelcoming. She had no illusions about what Adrian expected. He hadn't married her for comp

ulders, she push

there, lounging in one of the velvet armchairs, was Adrian. A glass of whiskey dangled loosely from his fingers, his shirt unbutton

her, assessing, unbother

ep her expression blank. "

erous. "You ask that as i

she walked further into the room, stopping just short of where he sat

n't tell. He tilted his head slightly, studying her like a puzz

a choice in being here, but I'll n

irling the amber liquid in his

t a thing, Adrian. Not something

. "Then wh

avering. "A woman who

stood, closing the distance between them in a single, predatory stride. He towered over her,

oft, deceptively gentle. "You speak as if you

d her chin

was no humor in it. "Then let me t

ace up so their eyes met. His touch wasn't painful, but it wasn't g

ut she refused to ba

eetheart," he murmured, releasing her as sudden

, as if she were nothing

h shallow, her skin burning f

d to fight. But Adrian was playing a game

He wasn't just exp

cting her t