Mistaken Identity: The Cold CEO's Runaway Lover

pierced through the gap in

ony. Her head felt like it was splitting open, a rel

deep, bruised soreness, as if s

ed her e

hite she was used to. Instead, it was a sleek, ind

tching the impossibly soft

s star

s night shattered in her

g that man from the b

tubble against her skin, the posse

mpletely blank save for pure, unadulterate

e it made her physically

she been cheated on, but within a mere few hour

grip,

herself t

e, ex

to get out

rumpled in a heap, her bra dangling from the armrest of a sleek lea

y like a thief. She was struggling to zip up her dress-the zipper felt stu

dangerously low on his hips. Beads of water clung to the chiseled muscles of

broken zipper of her dress. She felt

ther towel, his gaze sweeping c

thick and raspy. She didn't dare look him in the eye

the corner of the room and poured a glass of wat

id. "It'll help w

dozen scenarios from crime shows flashing through

ips. He set the glass down on the

voice. "You weren't nearly this cautious las

her hairline. "That was the alcohol!" she shot back, her voi

ngly oppressive, blocking out the light streaming in from the window. H

e the way I saw it, our bodies

he weather. "I find myself in need of a stable, public relationship. You are... strik

ed at him, certain she had misheard, blaming

ack hitting the cold concrete wal

in, as if she were a particularly slow subordinate. "It wou

s fury. "You think this is what I want? To make a transaction with you,

landed. A muscle

ess, completely ignoring the fact that the broken zipper left he

m one last time, her

icy. "The biggest mistake of my life. I would ra

she turne

didn't look back to see the shocked, bewildered expres