Tangled Temptations novel Chapter 313

In a lavishly decorated bedroom bathed in dim, warm light, Orlena lay motionless on a plush bed, bound and helpless. The lingering scent of a familiar aftershave teased her senses - the brand he always used.

This was the third time she had been "kidnapped" this month.

Each time, he would bring her here, blindfold her, and lightly tie her wrists with his tie, coaxing her to sleep beside him without ever laying a harmful hand on her. He would hold her through the night, and on some occasions, he would touch her when he was in a particularly good mood.

The sound of faint footsteps approached, followed by the sinking of the bed as he climbed in beside her. Warm fingers gently caressed her face, admiring her beauty. Finally, he halted his movements, gazing at her with a look of longing.

Orlena didn't struggle. Her tears slowly dampened the tie that covered her eyes as she softly wept. "Brett, aren't you supposed to be getting married? Why do you keep bringing me here?" She asked, her voice choked with emotion. "Am I to be your mistress?"

His pause confirmed her suspicions. She knew it was him.

Orlena sobbed quietly. She could recognize him even in death; his scent was too familiar, too intoxicating. With a surge of strength, perhaps because he hadn't tied her wrists too tightly, she managed to free herself.

Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she found herself staring into his. Her chest heaved as she took in the sight of the man she had loved for so many years. "Brett," she began, her lips trembling. "I may not be very smart, but you can't keep fooling around with me. I can't be any man's side piece."

Half a year ago, she had been drunk. They had spent the night together, letting their passions run wild.

When he visited Peterborough, they would occasionally spend the night together, considering he didn't have any other woman in his life. After all, they shared a child together, and he had promised that he would marry her in two years.

She was overjoyed and genuinely believed they would marry. But he was getting married now, and Mr. Brett's wedding announcement was splashed across the newspapers. The bride was not Orlena.

Despite this, he still wanted to sleep with her.

Brett watched her teary eyes, pulled a cigarette from his pack, and lit it with a touch of annoyance. He wanted to tell her to wait for another six months.

He wanted to tell her that the wedding announcement was fake, but how many "two years" could a woman have in her youth, and how many "half a years" could she afford to wait?

Brett's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Finally, he let out a soft sigh. "Orlena, I'm sorry."