Married to the Secret Stanger

Alexander strode into his room, his mind racing.

He clenched his jaw, trying to push away the memory of Joanne's soft body pressed against his, the way she had kissed him—desperate, needy.

Damn it.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, his muscles still tight with tension.

Then he looked down at himself.

His member was hard as a rock.

A low curse escaped his lips.

Without hesitation, he marched into his bathroom and turned the shower to ice-cold.

The freezing water hit his skin, but it did little to calm the fire raging inside him.

Joanne Baker… what the hell are you doing to me?

It took longer than usual for him to regain his composure.

By the time he stepped out, dressed in comfortable nightwear, the sky was already shifting to morning.

But sleep?

It never came.

Alexander was already up before sunrise.

He had spent the past hour in the kitchen—alone.

It was something he never did, but for some reason, he found himself brewing a special hangover tea.

For her.

When the tea was ready, he carried it to Joanne's room.

He positioned himself in his wheelchair near the floor-to-ceiling window, watching her sleep.

She looked… peaceful.

Soft rays of morning light fell on her face, highlighting her delicate features.

Her long lashes fluttered slightly as she shifted under the covers, a small frown forming on her lips.

Alexander's eyes darkened.

Would she remember?

Would she remember how she wrapped herself around him, how she kissed him so fiercely that it nearly drove him insane?

Would she wake up and blush in embarrassment?

Or worse—would she think he took advantage of her?

His grip on the armrest tightened.

He had been careful. He had controlled himself.

But still…

As Joanne stirred awake, he found himself holding his breath.