Kiss Me Like No Other

KATHERINE'S POVPeople often talked about an unfortunate life. If they wanted a real example, they should have looked at me. Twenty-five, fresh out of college, living in New York, and blessed with the best roommate a girl could ask for.Two weeks post-graduation, my to-do list still felt a mile long: call my family, hunt for a job, and the big one was to figure out how to nudge John toward a proposal. For Pete sake it was taking forever!The thought made my stomach clench. This was New York, not some backwater where arranged marriages were the norm. Even after six years in the city, the traditions of my family still tugged at me. Or rather, my family's expectations did. Since I happen to be the first child or a very prestigious family, I was supposed to marry someone "in my class" so I continue our prestigious bloodline."Wanna nag about my latest cooking?"I groaned, flipping over to grab my phone. Susan's cooking attempts were legendary, though not in a good way. "Sure," I mumbled,

The red-eye flight was the perfect escape, a numbing void where I didn't have to think. I was still battling a hangover, and the turbulence churned my stomach. Although still slightly hungover, barely had time to think about the man at the club or how Susan must have felt.Snap! I need to apologize to get and John, Good riddance to New York, good riddance to John.Stepping off the plane in Bucharest, I was hit by a wave of nostalgia. Was it the familiar scent of the air, or was I just feeling sentimental?As I walked through the terminal, I spotted a man holding a sign with my name. It couldn't be for me; my mother wouldn't risk the media catching me before I even reached the villa.I reached for my phone. The network was overloaded, and cabs were scarce. Not that I was in a hurry. Tomorrow, my sister would marry that Sam of all people, and I felt powerless to stop it. Not like I really wanted to stop it anyway."Madam Katherine Angelov?"I looked up to see the man with the sign.His

My eyes felt gritty, devoid of tears. Not that I wanted to ruin my makeup. I just couldn't cry anymore."You're doing great, Katie," Mom said, her voice surprisingly calm.After the discovery of Mara's...death, we had retreated to my mother's room while "experts" dealt with Mara's body until my father had seen her and after the wedding. How could she be so composed?She just lost her daughter! My sister died because of me and I couldn't even grive properly.As the makeup artist touched up my lashes, I fought back the urge to sob. My lips trembled, and the lump in my throat grew more suffocating.In the mirror, I saw my mother. Her composure was unsettling, a stark contrast to the raw grief I felt. Her eyes, usually sparkling with warmth, were now flat and unreadable, as if a mask had been drawn over her true emotions."Your father will meet us at the venue," she said.A single tear escaped."What happened to you, Mom?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.She simply stared at me, her e

Maybe it was the long flight a few days earlier, or the exhaustion that had settled deep in my bones, but I woke with a surprisingly clear mind.I'd slept soundly, collapsing the moment my head hit the pillow after stripping off the ridiculous wedding gown. It was beautiful, yes, but I wished I'd worn it under different circumstances. Nothing clears your head faster than the gnawing pangs of hunger, and at that point, the opulent room felt less like a sanctuary and more like a gilded cage.Speaking of the room, it wasn't exactly uncomfortable. The white paint complemented the beige decor. A portrait of Sam in a white suit hung directly across from the bed, making me feel like he was constantly watching me. Beside it was a beige wall clock."Already one o'clock?" I sat up in bed, surprised.I'd slept far longer than I intended. My phone lay beside me, dead, its battery drained. I'd grabbed it in a hurry yesterday evening, right after the wedding. I'd been asleep since 5 PM."Alright, K

Haze?I barely remember walking back to the room last night.One second I was on the cold marble floor, face buried in Benedict's chest, inhaling that clean citrus-and-cedar scent that made my head spin even through the tears. The next, I was already under the covers, still wearing the blue pajamas.Dear lord! When did I get so emotional?His arms had stayed around me longer than they should have-long enough that I felt the steady thud of his heartbeat against my ear, long enough that my fingers had curled into the back of his shirt like I was afraid he would vanish if I let go.Why would I do that? What does it seem I would lose him too when he was never mine? What if he really leaves?Would he? Even if he vanished, wouldn't that be a good thing? I was his brothers wife.He hadn't said much after the first "It's going to be okay." Just murmured softly against my hair. Then:"Breathe, Katherine.""I've got you.""You're not alone."Then he pressed his lips to the top of my head-not a