e front deadbol

at, tossing it casually over the back of an armchair. The platinum Patek Philippe on his wrist caught the dim fo

light. Only then did he notice Hilary sitting quietly by the floor-to-ceili

lian asked, his voice carrying its habitual,

marble table-a routine gesture of grand material compe

ie with one hand as he walked toward the sofa with familiar, husbandly warmth. "I bro

timacy, aiming a kiss toward her lips-the standard t

y's mind: Hours ago, were these same lips whispering sweet words to

from the depths of her stomach, s

She simply turned her face asid

ips brushe

gether in immediate, sharp

Valley," Hilary said, her

f a billionaire CEO did not waver. He straightened up, pouring

rivate phone on the marble counter li

, J? I hope your wife wasn't

nd. With practiced smoothness, he flipped the

ld plates on the table. I know you're upset about the anniversary, Hilary. This weekend, I'

said calmly. "I have no

unter with a sharp clink. The refusal of his ge

t quickly consoled himself: She's just throwing a petty temper tantrum over a forgotten date. She

arning. "Remember who you are. You bear the Carlisle name now. My family demands

his warm fingers closed around her pulse, H

ff me, Julian," H

involuntarily. He stared at her, searching for the familiar hurt o

ing into his condescension. "Go to sleep. We

d the brass lock. Inside the quiet room, she sat by the window, op