The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 61

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest**

**Chapter 61**

**Gemma**

“Cassian! What on earth are you doing in my bed?!” I exclaim, my voice echoing off the walls of the unfamiliar room.

As the words leave my lips, a wave of realization crashes over me, and I take a moment to survey my surroundings. “Oh, no. Why am I in your bed?” My heart races as the memories of the previous night begin to swirl in my mind, but they are clouded by a haze of alcohol and dancing.

Even during our marriage, Cassian never spent the night with me, so this situation feels surreal and unsettling. I strain to grasp the events of last night, but all I can conjure is a fleeting image of the club, the music pounding in my ears, and the moment when my cards declined. I remember calling out for Cassian, and to my shock, he appeared, pulling me away from the chaos. I mistakenly thought he was just another male dancer…

“Did I… did I proposition you?” I ask, my voice filled with horror as the realization washes over me.

His eyes, shadowed with fatigue, sparkle with mischief as he grins up at me from the pillow. “Yeah. And you haven’t paid me yet, so I’m not sure where you think you’re going.”

My heart sinks as I pull my knees to my chest, instinctively hiding my face in my hands. “Ugh, why did I drink so much?” I groan, feeling the weight of embarrassment settle over me like a heavy blanket.

Suddenly, there’s a gentle tug on my braid, and I lower my hands to find Cassian looking at me with an amused expression. He slips a strong arm around my waist, and before I can react, he pulls me into his embrace. My body is pressed against his, enveloped in the warmth and softness of his bed, and I can’t help but squeak in surprise.

“Don’t beat yourself up. You’re way more fun when you drink, and I have to admit, you were quite… bold,” he teases, his tone light yet laced with an undeniable charm.

“Ugh!” I exclaim again, pushing against him in a futile attempt to create some distance. My mind races, struggling to comprehend why he’s holding me like this, why that playful smile is directed at me. This is not the Cassian I know.

What is happening?

“Listen, Cassian, whatever I said last night, I’m sorry for at least some of it. But probably not most of it,” I confess, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

He chuckles dryly, the sound reverberating in the quiet morning air. “Of course.”

With a sudden movement, he sits up, and I can’t help but admire the way the golden morning light streams through the window, illuminating his sculpted physique—his bronze skin and toned muscles a sight to behold.

I bite my tongue, forcing myself to suppress a groan. I don’t want to encourage him any further than I might have last night; I need to keep my head clear.

Dressed in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs, Cassian rises and strolls over to his closet, rummaging through clothes. “Gemma, about this divorce…” he begins, and I hold my breath, bracing myself for what I fear might be a conversation about Seaside Manor.

Instead, he surprises me with, “You need to move back in here. I can send someone to Zina’s place to collect your things later.”

In an instant, I’m out of bed, the shock of his words propelling me into action. Only then do I realize I’m wearing a pair of pajamas I left here when I moved out.

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