Missing Mrs. Lowry: The Billionaire’s Wakeup Call

Chapter 29

Megan might have been at her wit’s end with Sullivan and might want to divorce him, but she wasn’t one to play fast and loose with her own well–being. Especially not when her stomach was growling louder than a dog in a thunderstorm.

The fish soup was both fragrant and tender, and after gulping down a bowlful, Megan felt a comforting warmth spread through her.

By the floor–to–ceiling windows, Sullivan leaned casually against the wall.

Twilight seeped through the panes, casting his chiseled profile in a soft light, accentuating his strong features. With his neat hair and tailored clothes, he looked every inch the man who knew his worth.

He’d lit a cigarette but hadn’t taken a drag, just let the smoke waft away into the evening breeze outside the window

The bedroom air was tinged with the faintest hint of nicotine that melded seamlessly with Sullivan’s own scent.

Once Megan had finished the soup, Sullivan stubbed out his cigarette and turned to her. “Grandma called. She wants us to drop by. What do you say?”

Grandma Heloise had always been good to Megan.

Megan couldn’t bear to break the old lady’s heart, yet the truth about their marriage was bound to come out sooner or later.

She weighed her words carefully, “Sullivan, maybe you can explain things to her?”

“Explain what?”

can’t

an explanation. She stood to leave, to change and

captured her slender

expression was mocking. “How about a quid

break

hand to bypass the lock, and

to her account.

he couldn’t resist a dig. “You don’t make more than two grand for a night’s performance at Timothy

“And how much do you drop on Cressida’s firework shows? At least a cool

supposed to

Sullivan looked down and asked again, a soft edge to his voice, “Megan, what’s

snapped, “Nothing! Just let go of me, Sullivan!”

only held on tighter. His eyes never left her, searing with an intensity that could make a woman’s legs turn to jelly. After a tense moment, he pulled her in closer, almost forcing her against his chest. Through

lingered,

provocation. “So tell me, what would be interesting to you?”

didn’t seem to want an answer because, in the next instant, his hands were deftly unbuckling his belt