Love Beyond the Mask by Adelaide Sinclair

Ludwik scowled, his sharp gaze slicing right through her. "Stop standing around making me mad. Go mind your own business, will you? Tomorrow, I'll have the Lippert family's media people handle the news. Isn't that why you came to find me?"

Whitney pressed her lips together, catching his meaning immediately. He was giving her an out, even hinting he'd keep things under control for her.

The tension from their little spat dissolved. Whitney's eyes turned soft, and she walked over to the bed, leaning down to give the icy man a quick hug. She tried to soothe him, "Alright, Ludwik, you're the best, okay?"

He caught her fingers with a cool, firm hand, his gaze suddenly heated and possessive. "Best at what, exactly?"

Whitney blushed to the roots of her hair, cursing herself for saying anything at all. She quickly wriggled free and checked her phone. "Why hasn't the bodyguard called me yet? Emma's reporters should be watching by now. I have to hurry back -Shane's meds are strong, and who knows what's happened. I'm really worried about Sandy!"

Ludwik, ever the tease, smirked. "If you and I really went wild, you'd be lucky to walk straight the next day. If they're not actually going at it, Sandy will survive just fine."

"Can you just stop talking, Ludwik?" Whitney shot back, mortified. He always knew exactly how to get under her skin.

He just grinned, lips pressed into a thin line of amusement.

Whitney shook him off, grabbed her bag, and hurried out to find her car, retracing her steps back to the apartment.

Three hours earlier.

Whitney had rushed out after handing the baby to Sandy, telling her to look after Shane.

She spun around to look at Shane. He didn't look drunk-no vomiting, no slurred speech. He couldn't move much,

could tell he was fighting something, sweating through his shirt, which he'd already

collarbone and chest were exposed, right there in

had locked

dashed downstairs, trying to

velme

wouldn't budge. Someone outside

was holding it shut.

in a low murmur, giving

lips trembled as she yelled, "Whitney? Why won't the door open? Who's holding

was the bodyguards-no way she could fight

realization crept in. Was Whitney really

echoed from outside. The wooden door was being

was trapped,

all the games

happened: Sienna had drutet

her,

have slipped

her, telling her to take care of Shane, and she had believed

was sweating and restless, most likely reacting to