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Purchased Wife 53- Bonus Chapter
The kitchen counter was cold.Anna wasn’t.She was already gasping when Luke lifted her onto it, robe riding high around her hips, bare thighs spread wide like an offering he hadn’t earned but was about to take anyway.His palms gripped her legs, his thumbs dragging slow circles over her skin, his jaw tight with restraint. His voice came low, like he was already halfway gone.“You’re really not giving me a second to breathe.”Her smile was dangerous. “No one told you to come up.”“I didn’t come up,” he said, sliding between her legs. “You dragged me.”She leaned in, her mouth grazing his. “You didn’t exactly fight me off.”He kissed her like that was the only answer he had. “I don’t think this surface is rated for nudity,” she whispered, tilting her hips into his hand.“I’ll call hotel maintenance,” he muttered, trailing kisses from her mouth down her neck. “Let them know you’re the hazard.”She moaned as his teeth found the edge of her collarbone. “God, you’re so hot when you’re irr
Purchased Wife 52- Bonus Chapter
Luke Marlowe had been shot at three times in his life. Once in Libya. The second in Prague and the last while standing too close to a Saudi prince with a questionable poker habit. None of those things compared to the quiet fury of waiting in a Bentley while Anna Rossi flirted her way through a blind date with a man named Barclay. Barclay. Who the fuck was named Barclay? Was he a polo horse? Luke glanced at the restaurant door again and still no sign of her. Just some other overdressed men with veneers and inherited confidence stepping out with women who looked bored enough to start fires for fun. Luke tapped the steering wheel once. Then again. Still nothing. She’d been in there for ninety minutes now. He adjusted his collar. Again. Not because he needed to, but because if he didn’t do something, he was going to punch the leather dash and that thing cost more than he did. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. He knew better. She was Anna Rossi. He was her bodyguard
Purchased Wife 51- Bonus chapter
London, 9:03 a.m.Luke was waiting downstairs like nothing had happened.He was dressed in a black coat with blacker sunglasses and steel in his jaw, plus a perfectly blank expression as he stood by the Bentley’s open door. He looked like a man ready to guard royalty, not someone who’d had his hands up her dress and his mouth on her neck six hours ago.Anna Rossi descended the marble steps in a blazer-dress that screamed “fuck off” in a dialect only billionaires could afford. Her lush hair was scraped into a high ponytail.She didn’t speak. She merely slid into the backseat with the elegance of someone who’d had centuries to practice pretending she didn’t care.Luke shut the door behind her, it was too gentle. Like she might crack.By the time he got behind the wheel, she was already on her phone, scrolling viciously through either gossip headlines or group texts she didn’t actually care about. Probably both.“Morning,” he said, his voice low, damn near inaudible.She didn’t glance
Purchased Wife 50- Bonus Chapter
The backseat of the Bentley shimmered in soft light, tinted windows cocooning Anna Rossi in a kind of rich-girl vibe as the car hummed past the glittering streets of London. Her phone buzzed again, another ping from the gossip feeds. She sighed, crossing her long legs. Rossi Heiress Caught “Flirting Dangerously” with a Prince yet Again? Anna Rossi or Anna Racy? A Breakdown of the Billionaire Sister’s London Romp Five Clutches, One Night: Is She Showing Off or Spiraling? Anna let out a laugh, dry and sweet like the aged wine they couldn’t even get right at Buckingham dinners. “Flirting dangerously,” she muttered, skimming the article with one manicured finger. “Darling, I invented that danger.” The car swerved gently, weaving toward the West End where Verre Noire awaited an ultra-exclusive nightclub hidden beneath a Michelin-starred restaurant. Anna reached for her diamond-studded clutch, then paused, eyeing the metallic sapphire one beside it. Her brow furrowed in agony. “Lu
Purchased Wife 49
Nathan Rossi adjusted the cuffs of his tailored black suit, his black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he scrolled through merger contracts on his tablet. The limo hummed smoothly toward the private jet, his security detail and personal assistant, Luke, sitting across from him tapping away on his knees. Then—his phone buzzed. Rachel’s FaceTime – Incoming Nathan swiped to answer before the first ring finished. The screen filled with the glorious chaos of his wife’s frazzled face, her dark hair piled into a messy bun, a suspicious stain on her shoulder and the kind of exhausted glare that could melt steel. Behind her, the wails of their three-month-old daughter, Isabella, filled the car like a tiny, furious opera singer. "Your daughter has decided that sleep is a capitalist construct, and I’m a victim of her revolution." Nathan’s lips twitched. "So what you’re saying is… she’s already a Rossi?" Rachel groaned, rubbing her temples. "She’s been crying for
Purchased Wife 48
Nathan Rossi had built an empire on his ability to stay calm under pressure. But as he watched his very pregnant wife waddle across their penthouse like an angry penguin, he realized no business deal had prepared him for this. Rachel stopped in front of the full-length mirror, scowling at her reflection. "Nathan, I swear to God, if one more person tells me I'm glowing, I'm going to stab them with this spoon." She brandished her ice cream spoon like a weapon. Nathan approached slowly, holding out a fresh tub of vanilla bean ice cream like a peace offering. "First of all, you are glowing. Second of all, here's more ammunition so you don't shoot the messenger." Rachel snatched it, grumbling as she shoved a heaping spoonful into her mouth. "Easy for you to say. You didn't wake up this morning and realize you can't see your own feet anymore." She gestured dramatically at her swollen belly. "I'm a human blimp. A very angry, very pregnant blimp." Nathan wrapped his arms arou
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