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I stood in our honeymoon suite, my wedding dress discarded for a silk negligee that had cost more than some people's monthly rent. The champagne buzz still lingered pleasantly in my system as I watched Harrison emerge from the bathroom, his dark hair still damp from the shower. "Come here, Mrs. Tucker," he said with that smile that had made me fall for him in the first place. I moved toward him, heart racing with anticipation. After months of waiting until marriage—his suggestion, which I'd found sweetly old-fashioned—tonight would finally be ours. I reached for the belt of his robe, letting my fingers