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He wanted to fuck her hard. Fuck her until she belonged to him completely. Fuck her endlessly even...until her belly was round with his child.
But even though he wanted all of those things—-
He would not...and couldneveract on his desires.
She was not for him and never would be.
And the sooner he was out of her life, the better for both of them.
Chapter Two
Mary felt a thousandtimes more intimidated now that she knewexactlywho her serial kisser was. Camille had been very informative when helping Mary hop to her bed without further injuring her ankle, and Mary could only listen in increasingly appalled silence.
England's #1 Heartthrob.
The only member of the Pussketeers who's single and available.
A descendant of the Iron Duke himself!
Camille had also quickly whispered to her how European tabloids often described Rathe as a 'cold fish', which even Mary knew was a term used for men or women lacking in sexual appetite. And that totally made no sense in any way.
The man who had kissed her at first sight could not be a cold fish.
At all!
But the man presently standing next to her bed now, asking if she was alright in a chillingly polite voice with an even chillier British accent?
Now this version of Rathe Wellesley was definitely a cold fish, and as much as Mary found this version of his incredibly intimidating—-
She owed him an apology, and so Mary took a deep breath and struggled to get the words out.
"I'm s-so s-sorry about earlier. I d-didn't mean for people to...to mistake you for..."
Her voice trailed off, and Rathe's attention was drawn to how Mary started wringing her hands on her lap.
Mary urged herself to try once more. "I'm s-sorry f-for..."
