Chapter 1

Cecily's POV

2:00 a.m.

I kicked off my heels. After three straight days of meetings in London, my feet were throbbing. All I wanted was to fall into bed.

The massive mansion was silent. That was normal. My marriage to Everett Rothwell had never been about love. It was a carefully negotiated contract. He got a respectable wife who satisfied the family-controlled board, and I got the financial support I desperately needed.

As for his heart? Everett had made that clear before we signed anything. It belonged entirely to the woman living in Paris.

I pushed open my bedroom door and stopped when I saw a tall figure stretched out across my bed.

Everett?

It was unusual. We normally slept in separate wings of the mansion. But I was too exhausted to think much about it. I changed into a silk nightgown, slipped under the covers, and turned my back to him, expecting the familiar invisible wall between us.

Then a strong arm wrapped around my waist.

I went still. The broad chest pressed against my back was burning hot. A hand swept my hair aside, and warm lips touched the nape of my neck.

"Everett?" I whispered.

He didn't answer. He only pulled me closer. His touch was urgent and greedy, nothing like the cold sense of obligation between us on the few occasions we had been intimate. Even his scent seemed different--darker, muskier, more aggressive.

But the room was pitch-black, and exhaustion made it easy to fool myself. Maybe the time apart had softened him. Maybe, for one night, the strict terms of our contract didn't matter.

I closed my eyes. I wanted to be loved so badly that I let myself believe the lie and surrendered to the hands moving over me in the dark.

Harsh sunlight woke me the next morning. My body felt heavy and sore, but a rare, genuine smile curved my lips.

Then the bedroom door clicked open.

I froze.

Everett stood in the doorway, fully dressed in a tailored charcoal suit with a cup of black coffee in one hand. His ice-blue eyes rested on my bed, his expression caught between disgust and cold amusement.

My blood turned cold. If Everett was standing at the door...

My heart slammed against my ribs as I slowly turned toward the pillow beside me.

A man lay there, propped on one elbow without a trace of shame. He had Everett's exact face--the same sharp jaw, the same aristocratic nose. But his hair was a mess, and his eyes held the look of a predator.

Nolan. Everett's identical twin brother.

"Good morning, little bird," Nolan murmured. His deep, dark voice made my stomach drop.

He didn't even bother pulling up the sheet. His bare chest was on full display, along with the red scratches I had left on his skin hours earlier.

I gasped and scrambled back against the headboard, dragging the comforter to my chin. "Nolan? How... How are you--"

I looked from the naked man in my bed to the perfectly dressed man at the door, panic closing around my throat.

Everett took a slow drink of his coffee. He didn't look like a betrayed husband. He looked like a CEO reviewing a contract violation.

"It seems my brother kept you entertained when you were supposed to be resting," Everett said, his voice ice-cold. "I didn't expect you to violate the morality clause quite so enthusiastically."

"Everett, I swear!" My voice broke as tears burned my eyes. "The room was dark. I thought he was you!"

Nolan gave a low laugh that vibrated through the mattress. He reached out and deliberately ran his fingers over my bare, trembling shoulder.

"Don't sell me short, Cecily," Nolan said with a mocking smile, looking straight at his twin. "My brother has never known how to appreciate your body the way I do."

Everett's jaw tightened. "Get dressed. Both of you. My study in ten minutes."

He turned and left, leaving the door partly open.

I sat there shaking, my dignity in pieces. Beside me, Nolan leaned back against the pillows and watched me with open hunger.