Chapter 296
“`
– For each row, replace every instance of “Chapter 296” with “Chapter N” (where N is that row’s chapter number). Do not alter any other text, HTML attributes, or formatting.
Chapter 296:
Gaston didn’t wait for an answer. He took her hand, fingers lacing tightly through hers, and pulled her from the car toward the private elevator. His strides were long and deliberate.
The moment the stainless steel doors slid shut, Gaston stepped close, placing both hands on the wall on either side of her.
“I am a straight man, Jocelyn,” he said, his voice filling the small space.
The elevator chimed. The doors opened to the penthouse.
Gaston didn’t let her walk. He bent down, gathered her into his arms, and carried her down the hallway, pushing the heavy bedroom door open with his foot. He set her down at the center of the king-size bed, the soft mattress giving gently beneath her.
He stood at the edge of the bed and reached up to pull his silk tie loose, dropping it to the floor.
Hot tears spilled over Jocelyn’s lashes and tracked down her cheeks.
Gaston leaned over her, bracing himself on his forearms, his face inches from hers.
Weekly releases on.com
“So, Mrs. Collins,” he murmured, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “Since the misunderstandings are finally cleared up — shouldn’t we renegotiate the non-interference clause of our prenuptial agreement p>
Jocelyn looked at the man who had burned down empires to keep her safe. The last of her defenses crumbled.
She nodded.
A flash of pure, unguarded joy broke across Gaston’s face. He didn’t hesitate another second. He brought his mouth down to hers.
This time, Jocelyn didn’t freeze. She didn’t push him away. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him closer, and kissed him back.
Morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Manhattan penthouse.
Jocelyn opened her eyes slowly. The sheets were tangled around her legs. Her cheek was pressed against a solid, warm chest, and she was held firmly in place by a pair of heavy arms. Her mind caught up gradually — the Maybach, the elevator, the confession that had shattered her understanding of everything.
Gaston was already awake. He lay perfectly still, eyes closed, but the moment he felt the sudden rigidity in the small woman pressed against him, a slow, wicked smile curved the corners of his mouth.
He tightened his grip around her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head.
“Good morning, Mrs. Collins,” he murmured, his voice a deep, gravelly vibration.
Jocelyn did not panic. She planted both hands against his chest and shoved backward with everything she had, breaking free. She scrambled to the edge of the bed, eyes narrowed.
“Do not touch me,” she said, her voice steady and cold. “You lied to me for months. You expect me to just smile and play the blushing bride? I have a hotel to run. I refuse to stay in this bed with a liar p>
Gaston didn’t fight her. He simply opened his arms and let her go.
He threw back the covers and stepped out of bed, wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants, his broad back and the sharp lines of his torso fully exposed to the morning light.
Jocelyn looked away, her mouth suddenly dry.