Page 17 of Her Irresistible Husband

But what he had not promised...was doing everything he could to make Star surrender her innocence to him of her own accord.

Just because he didn't like playing games...

Didn't mean he didn't know how to win.

Chapter Seven

I WAKE ALONE IN WYND'Smassive bed, cotton sheets tangled around my bare legs, and I'm just a little dazed, just a little overwhelmed, and just a little more obsessed with a man who's claimed so many firsts in my life...despite remaining a stranger to me in so many ways.

His bedroom feels different without the shadows of night. It isn't just brighter. It's somehow more imposing, with daylight harshly emphasizing that everything around me ishisdomain...while I'm nothing but a temporary visitor.

I'm scared, God.

He makes me so, so happy.

But I also know he'll only end up breaking my heart if being with him isn't aligned with Your will.

I used to be so, so sure that God chose Wynd for me.

But after surrendering myself to his touch, everything suddenly feels messy and confusing.

I don't believe in coincidence, and I still believe there's a reason Wynd and I were at the orphanage at the same time, a special reason that both our souls seemed drawn to Samuel.

But what if...

What if those reasons aren't what I want them to be?

My mind drifts back to everything that happened in the past twenty-four hours, and my cheeks warm as I find myself remembering just how many times I shattered in his arms...andwhere.

The boardroom.

The en-suite.

And then there's last night in this very room...

It was almost perfect.

Almost.

Until the moment I felt him slowly withdraw, and while I was still floating in that hazy post-climax bliss, Wynd simply pulled my torn dress over my nakedness, pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead, and left me alone in his bed.

No cuddling or sweet words.

He was just...gone.

That's the kind of man Wynd Sullivan is, and I just...I just don't know anymore.

Is spending the rest of my life with him truly what God wants?

Is it possible that all we have between us is sexual attraction?

That he has me so completely enthralled, I'm mistaking chemistry for love?

My stomach twists with unease, and doubts and worries continue to linger in my mind as I force myself to sit up, the expensive sheets pooling around my waist. The torn remnants of my yellow dress lie crumpled on the hardwood floor likeabandoned petals, a stark reminder of how thoroughly he'd claimed me.

That's when I notice the folded piece of paper waiting for me on the mahogany nightstand. The texture alone feels expensive under my fingertips, and the ink on paper is bold and rich, like something only the most finely crafted fountain pen could ever wield.

Call me.

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