Rejected Heiress, Reigning Queen novel Chapter 290

Suffocated by the events of the evening, Emma had knocked back far more alcohol than she intended.

By the time they arrived back at the hotel, the world was spinning violently around her. Chase carefully supported her weight as they navigated the corridor toward her suite.

As he reached for her key card, he caught her slurring a string of quiet murmurs—something about her mom, her brother, and Carter.

Chase had no immediate way of producing the first two, but Carter...

He glanced across the hall at the opposing suite, adjusted his grip on Emma, and knocked on the door.

Jeff answered. He blinked in surprise when he saw Chase supporting a barely conscious Emma.

"What happened to her?"

"Ran into Tristan at the bar. They got into a shouting match. She drank too much."

Chase delivered the report with military efficiency. Jeff immediately reached out to take her, but before his hands even made contact, Carter materialized at the door.

"I've got her."

Carter gathered Emma securely into his arms. Catching the familiar scent of his cologne, Emma's hands instinctively found his lapels, her fingers curling tightly into the fabric.

"Carter..."

She nuzzled into his chest like a tired kitten seeking warmth. The soft, unguarded motion practically melted the ice around Carter's heart.

He adjusted his grip, holding her effortlessly with one arm, and looked at Chase. "I'll take it from here. Get some rest."

"Understood. She has medication in her bag. If the alcohol upsets her stomach, make sure she takes it."

Carter offered a curt nod. Before Chase could even finish turning around, Emma blindly reached out and pulled the door shut.

"It's freezing."

The draft in the hallway had made her shiver, instinctively pressing closer to Carter's body heat. She only relaxed once the door clicked shut behind them.

Carter carried her further into the suite, but after just two steps, Emma started squirming.

"Gonna be sick."

"Hold still. I've got you."

Carter carried her thrashing body straight into the bathroom. The second he set her down in front of the toilet, Emma unsteadily shoved him out the door.

He stood right outside, the faint, sweet scent of alcohol lingering in the air.

Several long minutes passed. Finally, he heard the heavy rush of water from the showerhead.

"Emma, you need to sober up before you get in the shower."

Carter knocked firmly on the door. There was no way he was letting her bathe in this state. It was a massive safety risk.

He waited, knocking repeatedly, but there was zero response from the other side.

Panic spiked in his chest. Abandoning all boundaries, he gripped the handle, shoved the door open, and stepped inside.

Both the shower and the bathtub faucet were running on full blast. Emma was completely soaked through her clothes, slumped over the edge of the tub, her eyes drifting shut.

"Emma."

Carter closed the distance in two strides, grabbing her wrist before it could slide under the rising water. She was still clutching a used toothbrush in her hand.

"You're black-out drunk and you still managed to brush your teeth. I don't know if that's impressive hygiene or just sheer stubbornness."

Carter was simultaneously furious with jealousy and hopelessly enamored. He cradled her face, the frustration melting into an overwhelming, undeniable wave of affection.

His wife was absolutely maddening when she was drunk.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her earlobe in a punishingly gentle nip.

His voice was a dark, magnetic rumble cutting through the humid air.

"Look closely. I'm your husband, Carter."

The sharp tingle on her earlobe shocked a sliver of clarity back into Emma's brain. Her dark, wet eyes finally focused on the man in front of her. Driven by a reckless surge of liquid courage, she leaned forward.

Carter instinctively moved to catch her, but a second later, his spine locked completely rigid as her soft lips crashed directly into his.

She tested the waters, her movements clumsy but relentlessly teasing. Carter's breathing hitched. He pulled back, putting a desperate inch of space between them.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing right now?"

Emma kept her arms firmly looped around his neck and blinked slowly.

She was pretty sure she did.

"Carter. Husband."

She cemented the facts out loud and surged forward again. Carter's eyes went entirely black. Surrendering his restraint, he buried his hand in her wet hair and captured her mouth in a punishing, dominant kiss.

The temperature in the room skyrocketed, the water in the tub sloshing over the edges as the tension snapped.

Carter trailed his lips down her jawline, catching her wandering hands and pinning them firmly against the porcelain.

"Emma," he rasped, his voice rough with barely contained desire. "Stop playing with fire. I'm not exactly a saint."