《Accidental Vows:The Billionaire's Perfect Mistake》全部章節：第 1 章 - 第 8 章

I made it back to my own apartment at one in the morning, and I sat on the edge of my bed in my still-damp clothes for a full twenty minutes before I moved.My studio in Astoria was four hundred and eighty square feet of secondhand furniture, mismatched mugs, and the constant rumble of the N train passing every twelve minutes. It smelled faintly of the lavender candles I burned to cover the smell of whatever the upstairs neighbor was always cooking. The radiator hissed. The window leaked when it rained.It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen in my life.It was mine.I peeled off my wet coat. My ruined silk blouse. The pencil skirt that had a teriyaki stain along the hem now. My bare feet were still streaked with city grime and rain. I should have showered. I should have eaten something. I should have called someone.Instead, I dragged my old roller suitcase out from under the bed, threw it open on the floor, and started shoving things into it at random.A sundress. Two pairs

Up close, he was worse.That was the only word for it. Worse. Because at a distance — at the safe, manageable distance of the other end of the bar — he had been a vague, beautiful threat. A silhouette. A pair of eyes catching gold light. Something I could pretend I was imagining.Sitting two feet away from me on a barstool, he was a fully detailed problem.His shirt was black, the top two buttons undone, and there was a sliver of skin at the base of his throat that I forced myself not to look at twice. His jaw could have cut glass. There was a small, faded scar through the arch of his right eyebrow that I wanted, irrationally, to ask about.His eyes had not left my face since he sat down."You're staring," I said."I am," he agreed."That's rude.""It is."He didn't look away.I picked up my whiskey. I set it down. I picked it up again. I had absolutely no idea what to do with my hands."You said you would have him fired by morning," I said. "That was a strange opener.""Was it workin

"Marry me," he said.I laughed.I don't think I have ever laughed harder in my life. It came out of me in a wave — loud, ugly, completely unhinged. The jazz singer faltered for a beat. The couples on the dance floor turned to look. Damien did not move. Damien did not smile. Damien stood with his hand still at the small of my back and watched me come undone with the patience of a man waiting for a very slow train."Oh my God," I gasped, when I could breathe. "Oh my God, you almost had me. That was good. That was Damien, that was —""I'm not joking."I stopped laughing.The breeze picked up the hem of my dress. The singer found her note again. Somewhere far below us a car horn wailed, very small and very far away."You're not joking," I repeated."No.""You want to marry me.""Yes.""You don't know my last name.""I don't need to.""Damien." I pulled back from him by half a step. His hand fell from my back, slowly, like he was reluctant to let go. "Damien. We have known each other for f

I sat on the cold marble floor of a bathroom that probably cost more than my entire college tuition, and I tried to remember how breathing worked. My head throbbed. My mouth tasted like regret and cheap champagne. Somewhere a vent hummed. Outside the window, Las Vegas breathed in and out, bright and fake and unforgiving.Someone crouched beside me. I did not look up. I heard the soft click of a heated towel rack. The sound of water running slow and quiet in the sink. Then a cool damp cloth was pressed gently into my palm.He did not touch my face. He did not push my hair back. He did not say a single word. He just held the cloth there, steady, unhurried, until my shaking fingers closed around it, until I was steady enough to lift it to my own forehead.I sat there for a long time. The cloth seeped cold into my skin. I did not cry. Not yet. I just breathed. In. Out. In. Out. Trying to remember who I was. Trying to remember what I had done.When I finally looked up he was still there. C