Love Beyond the Mask by Adelaide Sinclair

Chapter 155

Chapter 155

Ludwik’s tone was cool and emotionless, and Whitney could not comprehend his emotions.

Her heart raced as she jerked back, feeling like it might leap right out of her throat.

Why was he in the kitchen?

Ludwik eyed her suddenly downcast face, saying nothing as his long fingers covered her pale ones. He expertly took the spatula to sauté the morels in the pan, skillfully bringing the water to a boil.

Whitney was a mess of nerves, unable to comprehend why he would still want to be near her.

Trapped in his scorching embrace, unable to break free, she did not know how to escape.

“The water’s boiling,” he reminded her, his voice nasal, hinting at a cold.

“Oh,” Whitney replied stiffly, reaching for the pot.

The man assisted her, pouring out the water with ease.

Natalie’s silhouette lingered at the kitchen entrance, her laughter peeking through.

Turning her head, Whitney started to grasp what he meant.

Pretending to go along with it, she did not dodge him anymore, and he instructed, “Add just a bit of oil.”

She reached for the oil bottle, her pinky finger instinctively raised in a delicate and graceful manner, pouring just a little and waiting for his cue.

Ludwik squinted, watching her dainty, onion–like fingers, his husky voice commanding, “Pour more.”

“Add the morels,” he directed.

Whitney quickly scooped up the morel slices, her cooking skills obviously lacking.

The man enveloped her tiny hand with his, taking up the spatula.

Their bodies were so close in the warm kitchen that it gave Whitney a dizzying sensation as if the warmth inside her was returning.

But was this just a fleeting dream?

too, hence this last

heart felt pricked by a needle, sharp and stinging, and Whitney silently wished for time to slow down.

little

were

of the kitchen, leaving the warmth behind and returning

marble dining table was soon laden with

was lighting romantic candles, inviting Whitney to

sat

joyful, sighing, “It used to be just the two of us for New Year’s, so dreary and quiet. Now, with Whitney and the baby on the way, we’re still

beamed with joy.

her inner turmoil whispering,

this was their first New Year’s together, probably

table, his face as impassive

wine, his long fingers swirling it before drinking it

spread around the table until Natalie nudged her son, “Don’t you

his lips with

in her seat, her heart feeling

he was about to say, what she had

face a significant loss, and he

be it, a clean break.

if pricked by needles,

towering over her, holding a small velvet box, the royal blue case sliding under the romantic candlelight to Whitney’s

down, his deep eyes fixed on her,

Confused, Whitney did.

was a stunning diamond ring that left her

you make a mistake in the bid on purpose? I won’t ask. I can forgive that error. If you thought your mistake would anger me,

“What exactly went wrong between us? I

mocking, pained smile flickered in

bit her lip hard, fearing she would be overwhelmed by

intently, his voice a low whisper, “I don’t want it to end! Nor do I want to lose you. Take your time to consider wearing this ring. Give us one last chance.

seat, the man

had he just done?

Whitney’s heart trembled.

proposing to her.

I G S I G

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