The Love He Never Understood

Sore. Aching all over.

It felt like she'd been run over by a truck.

A harsh beam of sunlight pierced through Celestia Brooks's eyelids, forcing her eyes to flutter open. The glittering Swarovski chandelier above, the extremely luxurious bedding, the tasteful antique décor-it all screamed one thing: this wasn't her place.

She stared blankly for a good ten seconds before her memory finally kicked in. Hotel. Right.

She groaned softly as a wave of soreness spread through her body.

Last night had been Sophia Quinn's bachelorette party. They were celebrating, and she must've had a few too many.

She usually held her liquor well, which made it even weirder that she'd blacked out. She didn't think she'd drunk that much.

Her head was pounding like crazy. Supporting it with one hand, she tried to sit up and make her way to the bathroom for a much-needed shower. But as she started to move, she felt a weight pressing against her stomach. Frowning, she lifted the blanket-

And froze.

A bronzed, masculine arm was draped across her flawless waist. Her breath caught in her throat as every cell in her body snapped to attention.

Oh God.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, barely muffling her scream in time. Her eyes widened, heart racing like mad. She stared at the man's arm like it might suddenly vanish. Her mind was a mess of static.

It took a minute before she could even think straight. Slowly, she lowered her hand and swallowed hard, then gingerly peeled the blanket back further.

And instantly went pale as a sheet.

No way.

Her skin was marked all over-reddened trails against her white body, like she'd been completely ravaged. Her thighs ached. And then she spotted the faint spots of red on the sheets.

Her whole face crumbled.

Every woman knows what that means.

Celestia's eyes blurred, threatening tears, her mind in total chaos.

When? How? She was certain a woman had brought her back to her room last night. Why was there a man here now?

Shock swirled in her chest like a maelstrom. Her gaze shifted from the red-stained sheet to the man's back. She stared at him, numb with disbelief.

Gritting her teeth, she carefully lifted his arm off her and set it aside. Then she jumped out of bed and scrambled to collect her clothes from the floor, yanking them on hastily.

Another minute passed before she finally looked down at herself to double check-everything was buttoned, zipped, covered. All set. Slowly, she turned around to face the man still sleeping in her bed.

She needed to know who this was.

Swallowing a lump of dread, she steeled herself and walked quietly around to the other side of the bed.

The second she saw his face, her heart just... stopped.

Her blood turned cold.

No. No, no, no.

His eyes were shut, his breathing slow and even as he slept.

Tangled strands of hair fell carelessly across his forehead, framing a face so striking it could make anyone forget to breathe-sharp features, defined jawline, effortlessly handsome.

But it wasn't his looks that made her heart skip a beat.

It was his identity.

Jareth Carrington. CEO of the Carrington Group. One of the city's most eligible bachelors.