Faux Vows, True Desires

When they got to the more intimate moments, Owen found himself craving more than just kisses. But he'd promised her that he wouldn't force anything upon her.

If he wanted to truly indulge, he knew he had to put a ring on her finger first. That way, enjoying the pleasures would be justified, a matter of marital right.

Owen had just sealed a lucrative deal with Mr. Spencer, and both parties were over the moon. Celebration was in order, and it led to a few too many drinks.

Owen had intended to be Cecilia's knight in shining armor, ready to intercept any unwanted alcohol. But with spirits high, he'd let his guard down. By the time he remembered his chivalrous plan, Cecilia had already had her fair share of drinks.

He could kick himself.

Both Lucinda and Cecilia had warned him not to let her get drunk.

Seeing her blush like a boiled shrimp and her eyes getting all blurry, it'd be strange if she wasn't drunk.

Mr. Spencer, meanwhile, was being propped up by his secretary, clearly having overindulged himself. Walter, ever the considerate host, suggested that Mr. Spencer stay at the hotel overnight. As a valued client of the Ikella group, it was only right that he be treated with the utmost hospitality at the Pinehurst Hotel.

The secretary, seeing his boss in such a state, agreed to Walter's suggestion, deciding a night's stay was better than trekking back home in that condition.

Soon, the presidential suite was cleared out, leaving only Owen and Cecilia. "Cecilia," Owen said gently, gauging her mood with care. "You alright there?" Cecilia's response was a wide grin followed by a hearty, boisterous laugh.

Owen blinked in surprise. Did she laugh heartily when she was drunk?

The next thing he knew, her hands were all over his face, pinching, twisting, and generally having a field day with his features.

"So it's real," she mumbled, apparently convinced she was dreaming.

"Hey, handsome," she slurred, puckering her lips. "What's your name? How old are you? Got a wife yet? Come on, give me a smooch." Owen was flabbergasted.

Here was Cecilia, not recognizing him and shamelessly flirting with him.

Not only did she envelop him in kisses, but her hands were also all over him, with the unmistakable intent of undressing him.

to maintain his composure, not wanting to take advantage of her when she was

wryly, "No wonder you said you were a terrible drunk, hitting on men like this. Lucky it's just me. If it were anyone else, you'd be crying with regret tomorrow

barely holding back laughter, scooped her up and carried her into

One thing was certain.

offering

he thought. She'd have to kiss his entire body to make it worthwhile, and even then,

Such a lowball offer!

you? How about a hundred and one?

the bed, and the moment her hands were free, they were back around his neck, pulling him down to her, lips

off, blocking

got a great body. Let's see

tried to undress him, her drunken strength and blurred vision making it a clumsy effort. Eventually, she

of his shirt

those muscles! Hot

teeth and growled, "Cecilia, stop

had

to flirt with

warned Owen about this-never to let her

her. She found it very appealing, and as she was about to dive in for a taste, her stomach rebelled, and the next thing Owen knew, he was

Cecilia!

a flash, Owen flipped her over

returned to find the instigator of his troubles fast asleep, with a part of

What a night!

Owen undressed her out of her soiled evening gown, placed her on the couch, and

put on new sheets and laid

cause any more

at her alluring form under the covers-her gown had been removed, and he didn't have any spare clothes for