Page 62 of Outcast’s Vow

A man satiated. A man who has finally won his prize.

And, next to him, a woman who’s cracked the outer shell of his cold heart.

“Wife,” he says, voice drained of energy.

My hands wrap around his spent body, and I purr like a cat into his ear.

“Husband.”

Something has happened. At last, we’ve reconciled ourselves to the truth that this isn’t a forced marriage, that it’s not arranged, that it isn’t one of convenience...

The truth is that this is turning into something dangerously more.

24

SYLVIE

Baptiste and I both agree that the chalet’s hot tub is in dire need of use.

Immediately.

So we get in. Together. Naked.

And, with both of us still very much riding the high of what just happened in the bedroom, the hot tub’s steam swirls around us and rises into the brittle cold air of Aspen.

But the heat in here doesn’t even compare to what is burning between us. Look, we both need to take a moment to process what we’ve just done. That’s why we don’t utter a word; we don’t dare break the spell.

I slept with the man who seemingly hates me. The man who infuriates me every waking moment, the man who calls me stupid, petty nicknames, and who says I’m simply here for his physical pleasure.

No, I slept with my husband. A man whose name I was – mere minutes ago – moaning in pleasure on the sheets of our honeymoon bed.

This has certainly been a very strange turn of events...

The hot jets tickle my skin as I drift back against the edge of the hot tub and look at the man who just ruthlessly fucked me senseless. The water glistens on his taut muscles. His hair is slicked back, perspiration running down his cheeks. He gives me a look of such burning intensity I can’t help but blush.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks me in a deep gravelly tone.

The sound of bubbling water echoes between us. I bite my lip, still tasting the salt of Baptiste’s sweat.

“Nothing,” I reply, very afraid he might be able to read the dark thoughts featuring him currently swimming in my head.

Baptiste doesn’t even hesitate.

“I know you,” he says.

“Oh, you do?”

“I can see your brain ticking. What is it?”

My teeth bite down harder on my soft lip.

“Let’s talk about your past.”

“And what about my past?”

I pause.

“Have you ever been in love?” I ask him.