Love Beyond the Mask by Adelaide Sinclair

Chapter 44

Whitney’s cheeks were flushed with anger as she took several gulps of the drink.

L quirked a grin, asking. Tastes bad, huh?”

“Yes,” Whitney lied defiantly, although, in truth, it was not bad at all–he was quite the chef.

His brows arched quizzically, and he leaned closer, “Let me be the judge of that.

Instead of tasting from the glass, his lips found hers in a sudden kiss.

“Hey!” She protested, words muffled. How could he do this again? Whitney struggled, but his absence had clearly affected him, his kisses growing more fervent, Gradually, her resistance faded, her grip crumpling the

fabric of his shirt.

His back was a landscape of strength, which Whitney dared not touch as her cheeks blushed even deeper. Finally, he pulled away to catch his breath, looking at her intently. “Now, you can explain properly.”

How could he? After teasing her, he had the nerve to ask for an explanation?

Pushing him away, Whitney stood up, her voice tinged with annoyance. “There’s nothing to clarify. Mr. L, your personal phone line was answered by some other woman. That alone tells me all I need to know about you. We may be in a contract marriage, but while I won’t meddle in your colorful private life, don’t you dare flirt with me. Got it?”

The atmosphere in the room turned icy.

He stepped forward, his presence chilling. “Me? Colorful private life?”

“Isn’t that so?” Whitney went on, feeling a need for clarity. “Eight days ago, I called you in the afternoon, and a woman answered.”

Frowning, he pulled out his phone and shoved it into her hands. “Check for yourself,”

Whitney took the phone, surprised by his boldness. Guilty men would never hand over their phones so easily. yet he was utterly indifferent.

Feeling a bit awkward but determined not to lose face, Whitney scrolled through the call log.

Eight days back, she checked once, and the record was gone.

deleted it, Mr. L. Or maybe

laced with mockery. “If I really had someone else, why would I hide it from you? Who do

pain shot through Whitney’s

How dare he?

she think she

palpable as she pushed him away. “You’re right. I’m nobody. I’m

drama,” he retorted, his tone hard yet softening as he looked into her eyes. “If you want to be someone to me, then try harder. He leaned in, whispering with a mix of arrogance and tenderness, “And just

slowly

cheeks burned with a sudden realization–was

ears reddened as she stammered, “Don’t talk nonsense to me. I don’t understand it anyone’s benefiting, it’s

service,” he said, his lips curving into a wicked

a waste of breath, Whitney huffed, still upset about the mysterious phone call. No

pleasure. “All this fuss over a phone call. You’re just jealous, aren’t you? I have

T’m not jealous. You

He breathed out, tickling

shoved him away, losing patience. “Can’t

opened to reveal some medical supplies. He rolled up

Whitney asked, “Got this the

be injured if not for you? Ungrateful thing, tend to

her eyes at his self–inflicted tantrum but obediently applied the antiseptic and wrapped the wound

she worked, he asked out of the blue, “Did

knew. “Are you

I look like I’m over it? Do I look like I want to help?”

her own grievances still not addressed. He still had yet to explain the phone

I’ll just have to go see that Ludwik, my dear rival.

interested

scoundrel at heart, a one–time investment wouldn’t be

in displeasure. “And how would you make this one–time

and

best. We’re just in a

and amusement. “Ludwik wouldn’t give you a second glance, especially not

She asked eagerly. He stood up abruptly, grabbing his coat. “Enough. You’ve caused enough trouble tonight. Just sleep here.” Whitney blurted, “And

to choose