Se connecterPartager
BUSINESS COLLISION
Date de publication:
2026-09-12 16:29:30
Dernier chapitre
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done The Confirmation
MIREYA MOREAUThe car was too quiet.It wasn't the easy silence we'd shared on the flight to Italy, or the charged one that had followed us into the elevator. This one pressed on my ears. Streetlights slid over Nikolai's face and moved on, and he didn't look at me once.I lasted six blocks."You said you'd tell me in the car.""I know what I said." His hands stayed steady on the wheel, his eyes on the road."Then tell me.""Not tonight."I turned in my seat to face him. "Not tonight?""I will tell you, Mireya." His voice was low and even. "But not while Vivienne's words are still in your head. You'd only hear her version.""So there is a version."His jaw flexed. "Vivienne has always known how to make things sound bigger than they are.""That's not an answer.""It's the only one I have right now."I almost laughed. It was the same sentence he'd given me in the hallway, word for word, and it landed the same way. Like a door closing politely in my face.I looked out the window and press
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done A place in his past
MIREYA MOREAUI found Nikolai on the terrace, deep in conversation with an older man I didn't recognize.He looked up as I came closer. Whatever was on my face, he read it in one second. He said something to the man, shook his hand, and crossed the terrace to me in four long strides."What happened?" He asked, raising his hands to cup my face."Nothing." I whispered."You're lying."I crossed my arms. "Vivienne happened."His jaw tightened. "What did she say?""That I have no idea what it means to be your wife." I lifted my chin. "And that I should find out before it's too late."Nikolai didn't answer right away. He took the glass from my hand, because I'd been strangling it, and set it on a passing tray."She's trying to provoke you," he said."I gathered that." I watched his face. "Is there something I should know about you and her?""We've known each other for years. Our families were close.""And?""And nothing." His voice stayed leveled. "Whatever Vivienne thinks she knows about
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done Nervous? Nah!!
MIREYA MOREAU August's estate looked like something straight out of a magazine. Lanterns lined the driveway, fairy lights tangled through the garden trees, and waiters slid between guests with trays of champagne.I should have been admiring it. Instead, I was counting how many people had already stared at me.Eleven."Stop counting," Nikolai said, his hand settling on the small of my back."I'm not counting.""Your lips are moving."I pressed them together and smoothed the front of my champagne silk dress. "There are a lot of people here, Nikolai.""They're relatives." He steered me around a fountain, his voice low. "They bite less than they look.""Is that supposed to comfort me?""It's supposed to be true." He glanced down at me. "Ready?""I've survived worse.""Have you?""I married you."His mouth twitched. He turned his face away before I could enjoy it."Careful, Mrs. Moreau," he murmured against my ear. "People are watching.""Good. Let them.""Then try not to look like you're
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done Old Friends
MIREYA MOREAUAfter she left, I sat very still while his breath warmed the collar I’d buttoned so carefully, right over the mark I was hiding. My pulse was hammering in that exact spot, and I was fairly sure he’d feel it if he woke up. I allowed myself one look at the lines around his eyes and the way his jaw had finally relaxed, then turned firmly to the window and pretended I couldn’t hear my own heart.He woke somewhere over the Atlantic, and I knew it because his breath caught and he went rigid.“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting up so fast I thought he’d crack his neck. “I didn’t mean to—how long—”“Two hours.”“You should have woken me.”“You looked tired.” I shrugged and by now his ears had gone red.“Your shoulder must be numb,” he said, to the seat in front of him.“It’s fine.” I rolled it once and winced and he watched me while flexing his jaw, with a concentrated calm that made me feel nervous.“Mireya. About last night.” He began and my heart climbed into my throat and set up
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done Awkward morning
MIREYA MOREAU I woke to warmth, and for one blissful second I couldn’t remember why that mattered. Then I felt the arm around my waist and the chest against my back, and the whole night came crashing in: his mouth, his hands, the zipper, the phone.I went rigid, I had fallen asleep on the very edge of the mattress with a foot of cold sheet between us, and now there was no space between us , only Nikolai Moreau’s body fitted against mine as if we’d planned it.His breath moved the hair at my neck, slow and even, and I realized he was still asleep. I began easing out from under his arm one careful inch at a time, and he tightened his hold and pulled me back.“Don’t,” he mumbled into my hair and my heart stopped almost immediately. “Nikolai?” I called out but he didn’t answer, rather his breathing remained steady.I gently slid free and stood on the cold marble with my hand pressed to my chest, trying to keep my heart from beating its way out before walking toward the bathroom.I locke
Too late, dear husband; Mrs Grant is done Unfinished Business
MIREYA SARAI MOREAUI pulled him closer, and Nikolai stopped being careful.He kissed me like he’d been holding his breath for months. My fingers left his tie and found the back of his neck, and the low sound he made against my mouth went straight through me.“Say it again,” he muttered.“Say what?”“That you don’t want me to stop.”“You’ve asked me three times.” I tugged at his collar. “Are you going deaf, or just stalling?”“Checking.” His lips brushed the corner of my mouth. “Last week you told the entire board I was an arrogant dictator.”“You were an arrogant dictator.”“And tonight?”“Tonight you’re an arrogant dictator I want to kiss.”He laughed, a rough, startled sound, and I felt it against my ribs. My hands went for his shirt buttons. He caught my wrist.“Slow down.”“No.”“Mireya.” His mouth moved to the spot below my ear, and my knees stopped cooperating. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”“You’re terrible at it.”“I’m aware.”His fingers found the tab of my zipper and still
Vous vous intéresseriez aussi à
Madam Winters’s Fight For Her Children
Summer Wine1.2M VuesLet Me Go, Mr. Hill!
Shallow South6.6M VuesOn My Knees For Him!
Xee write750.2K VuesHer Accidental Billionaire Husband
Lexusstar writes694.1K VuesPurple Summer
Abena2.7K VuesThe Billionaire’s Cinderella Wife
Herverse117 VuesNever surrender to an arrogant playboy again
Ivinegar93 VuesWORLD BETWEEN US
AG Mocumi136 Vues
