She Walked Away With His Twins While He Begged the Ground She Walked On novel Chapter 180

The woman gave a soft, mesmerizing laugh. 'No.'

Her laughter melted into the evening breeze. 'Isn't it better this way?'

A wave of profound disorientation washed over him in the dream.

The fiercely alluring woman in his arms felt distant and shrouded in absolute mystery.

Yet the scent of her skin, the impossible softness of her lips... it all felt agonizingly familiar.

The arms locked around her waist tightened instinctively, pulling her flush against his chest.

'What is your name?'

She lifted a single, slender finger and pressed it against his lips. 'It's a secret.'

Miles reached up to tear the mask away, but she caught his hand.

She pulled him effortlessly into the center of the dance floor.

They danced song after song. Time seemed to vanish completely. Only she had the power to ignite this dark, consuming hunger inside him.

The edges of the dream were blurred and sluggish. He couldn't make out her features, nor could he understand why she felt so devastatingly familiar.

He only knew he was addicted to the warmth of her body, letting the intoxicating emotions completely overrun him.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the estate. The mask slipped from her face, revealing a breathtakingly beautiful visage bathed in the shifting light.

As her features came into perfect focus, absolute shock paralyzed him. He stumbled backward. 'Quinn? How could it be you?'

The moment he called her name, the mysterious woman dissolved into thin air, vanishing completely before his eyes.

Miles violently jolted awake from the dream. It was exactly eight in the morning.

The phantom heartbeat still pounded in his chest. He shook his heavy head, got out of bed, and downed a glass of water in one gulp.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, desperate to clear his mind.

Why the hell was he dreaming about Quinn?

And why did his mind twist the mysterious woman from the manor into her?

He yanked at his collar, his frown deepening. The more he thought about it, the more utterly ridiculous it felt.

Quinn coldly looked away as well and sat down at the dining table.

She grabbed a glass of milk and a piece of toast, then walked toward the kitchen, refusing to look at his icy face for another second.

"Quinn, I prepped some hard-boiled eggs for you too."

"Thank you, Gail. But you really don't have to peel them for me. I can do it myself."

"Your hand is still healing, Ma'am. I was already peeling one, so doing two was no trouble. Please, don't mention it."

Miles sat at the head of the table, eating his breakfast with excruciating slowness.

Through the glass partition of the kitchen, his gaze caught the slender, delicate fingers peeling the egg.

Those were the exact same fingers that had pressed against his lips last night.

And as he watched her bite into her toast, he was instantly reminded of the blazing heat of her mouth against his...

His hand twitched mid-sip, spilling a drop of milk onto the table.