From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 88

A married woman!

Lydia bit her lip hard. She had no business getting tangled up with him!

No wonder he had angrily slammed the door in her face last night.

She desperately wanted to clear the air. She didn't want this misunderstanding to escalate and ruin their professional dynamic, especially when she already had a mountain of problems to deal with.

Tilting her head up, she met Xavier's fathomless gaze.

"Mr. Ford, I honestly don't know why we keep running into these bizarre situations, but I need you to stop jumping to conclusions. I've been married for two years, and my husband and I have a great relationship..."

Back at The Gilded Palate, Xavier had seen Frederick acting intimately with Sierra and called Lydia "birds of a feather."

He clearly assumed her marriage was a wreck and that she was trying to latch onto him as a new meal ticket.

He suddenly leaned down, his handsome face hovering mere inches from hers. The crisp, intoxicating scent of cedarwood and faint mint utterly hijacked her senses.

Memories of the elevator at The Pulse rushed back with violent clarity.

The darkness.

The breathless friction of their bodies. The alcohol burning in her veins as she instinctively parted her lips, welcoming his deep, demanding kiss.

The taboo, heated imagery flooded her brain. Meeting Xavier's intense stare, her breathing turned jagged. An uncontrollable wave of vulnerability washed over her, making her knees weak.

She clamped her hands into tight fists, using the sharp tension in her muscles to anchor her fraying sanity.

He pried her tense fingers apart, revealing the raw, irritated skin where she had driven her nails into her palms.

He traced the angry marks with a gentle thumb.

The unexpected sting made her gasp. She tried to snatch her hand back, but he pulled with a dominant strength, yanking her flush against his chest.

Lydia raised her free hand to push against his chest, hyper-aware of her status as a married woman. She couldn't afford to get close to him and ruin his reputation. But the moment her fingers grazed the warm, sheer fabric of his white dress shirt, his large hand clamped down on her shoulder, pressing her back onto the sofa.

Still holding her hand, he took a small tube of soothing ointment from the table and gently rubbed it over the irritated skin of her palm.

The cooling sensation of the gel mixed with the blazing heat of his touch completely derailed her train of thought.

He was only stepping in to help her.

She knew she shouldn't accept his kindness, but for a fleeting second, she couldn't bear to pull away.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify