His Unwanted Wife, The Secret Genius

ur husband

ter, sharp and unforgiving. Eleanor Carlyle-Spencer ne

The King Cole Bar. He'

vy with unsp

le-Spencer name does not t

, heavy blanket, smothering the last embers of her fight. Her throat ti

Elea

ne wen

state. The woman looking back was a stranger in a couture dress, her makeup a perfect

e sweeping staircase, into the cavernous master suite. She slipped out of her

ather cool against her clammy pa

dan idling silently. He held the door open, his weathered face a mask of professional neutral

nto streaks of gold and red, a vibrant, living thing outside the hermetica

t. Julian, impossibly handsome in his custom tuxedo. She, full of a naive hope that felt

. Cecelia took a deep, steadying breath, the cool night air doing little to calm the frantic b

ations, the faint scent of lilies and money. She walked through it, her

xpensive whiskey and designer perfume. Laughter floated from seclu

a corner booth,

rs of his handmade suit, the dark hair expertly cut. He was

wo

ached Cecelia, and her heart, which she t

her face toward the light.

ny Ho

ian's first love. The ghost that hau

Cecelia's breath caught in her throat. A knot of ice formed in her gut. She forced

ny's throat. A diamond necklace. A delicate, familiar design. It

a physical blow. It shattere

so cold and distant, finding her across the small space. There was no surprise

mile widened, a triumphant

en she finally spoke. "Julian. El

eyes never leaving hers. He turned to Britany, his voice a low murmur

her in his shadow. The scent of his cologne, the same one he'd w

er meant only for her. "Who the hell tol

been aching, simply went numb. She looked into her hus

again, his voice returning to that warm, intimate tone. "Let me take you ho

leaned in close, her perfume cloying. Her voice was a soft,

watched them walk away, side by side, a perfect couple. She was the i

ity and cruel amusement. She was Cecelia Fischer Carlyle-Spencer, the woman who had

oldness. The final straw hadn't just b