Craving Touch, I Wed My Ex-Fiancé's Nemesis

n her throat, a block of

skin with a cold sweat. Rain lashed against the windowpane, the sound l

was being peeled away, leaving every nerve exposed. Her fingers dug into her o

ed to be

umatic symptom left behind by the fire and the

m the picture, his handsome face a perfect, polished mask. The sight of him didn't bring comfort. It

tand shrieked, slicing

st

nd. She took a ragged breath, the air burni

o Club. Now." Juston's voice was crisp, devoid of any greeting, lace

g well..." she began, h

ff, his impatience a palpable wave

hand holding the phone turned white at the knuckles. Humiliati

vast, silent testament to his wealth. She found the tie, its e

the mirror showed a pale, haunted face. She looked away q

est sedan the Cross family assigned to her, the wipers fighting a losing

tremor. She had to pull over, her hands locked on the steering wh

ates of the Greenwich Polo Club loomed ahead. This w

his eyes flicking from her plain car to her pale

hank you, and hurried into the gilded lobby

. The damp chill clinging to her felt alien here. She was an

s location. The woman pointed towards a live

to a colleague. "Looking for Mr. Cross again... Poor

against her skin. She quickened her pace,

l blow. The brush of a sleeve, the proximity of an arm-it was all a dizzying, dangerous temp

vision blurring with uns

through the noise and the glitter, snagging

sharp silhouette of his profile agai

d, elegant, and strong. One was draped loos

nt, the world

r being, all the emptiness and the

ose hands would just touch her, even for

o had just found her shrine. She forgot w

ed his head slightly. The shadows hid his feature

back a step, retreating into the pillar

coming in short, sharp gasps, she couldn't

that terrified her, that sh