Cold husband burning regret

Regret Novel 35

The mattress dipped behind her, the weight pressing close. Two bodies, skin to skin, and Charlotte tensed–she could feel him changing, could feel everything shifting. Her whole body went rigid, as if she were a corpse, cold and unmoving. “Evander,” she blurted, voice sharp and brittle, “was Tricia not enough for you?”

She knew Evander. He’d never stoop to forcing himself on her, not even in his worst

moods.

But now? Now she wasn’t sure.

The intimacy she used to crave had turned sour. It felt impossible to bear, knowing he could be with Tricia and then come to her as if nothing had happened.

It made her feel sick.

Evander could sense her revulsion as clearly as if she’d shouted it. His eyes, fixed on hers, darkened.

He’d realized long ago–her face was almost too striking, the beauty of it unsettling, made all the more so by the dark beauty mark at the corner of her eye. It set her apart, made her alluring but not vulgar, impossible to forget.

And yet… that tiny mark always bothered him in ways he couldn’t explain. He was sure he’d seen it somewhere before, long ago.

Maybe that was why, whenever he looked at Charlotte, a strange irritation began to simmer under his skin.

He yanked his tie loose. “We’re married, Charlotte. Whether you like it or not, this is part of my duty as your husband,”

Her eyes widened. She tried to push him away. “I don’t-” But before she could finish, his hand clamped over her wrist, his mouth finding the curve of her neck, breath hot and wild against her skin.

She could hardly breathe. Shame and anger welled up inside her, tears blurring her vision. She turned her face away.

Evander’s fingers wrapped tight around hers, then–suddenly–he froze.

gaze dropped to

worn for

remained was a

Chapter 35

brushed the mark, his voice hoarse and

at him, silent,

wearing the ring the night she’d asked for

Evander’s phone

pulled his shirt together and sat up, grabbing his

The heat of his touch still lingered on her skin. Was

made

returned to the bedroom. Charlotte was gone. The

to knock–but stopped, hesitated, then let his hand fall

jacket

cover her completely, as if soaking in the tub could wash

for noon,

around eleven, she received notice: the lead surgeon had been switched. Effective

was abrupt–no warning at

frowning. She looked up at the nurse. “Was this

around nervously. “Actually, this was Dr. Fontaine’s decision. He said… well, after what happened between you and Director Winthrop,

doctor with sixteen years under his belt and a reputation to

he had chosen

Chapter 35

family’s influence really knew