She Ran Away I Married Her Blind Fiancé

My older sister had turned her nose up at her fiancé, a man who'd been blinded in a car crash. On their wedding night, she ran off to fool around with a male model. My mother forced me to swap my wedding dress for my sister's, ordering me to stand in for her and make it through the night pretending to be her. Once the lights went out, I told myself that as long as I kept my mouth shut and didn't say a word, this blind man would never know I wasn't his bride. But this man had unbelievable stamina. He went at it all night, until my back felt like it was about to break. It took forever for him to fall asleep. I'd just gathered my clothes off the floor and was about to slip out when a pair of big, burning hands suddenly wrapped around my waist from behind. The man's deep, amused voice purred right in my ear. "Leaving so soon, honey?" ***** I jolted, and the clothes in my hands dropped to the carpet. The man reached out and pulled me backward. I stumbled back right into his broad, rock-hard chest. "Why aren't you saying anything?" He pressed close to the shell of my ear, his warm breath fanning across my neck. His voice carried a lazy, sated tone. I bit down hard on my lower lip, not daring to make a sound. If I so much as breathed a word, he'd realize the woman in his arms wasn't his actual bride, Celeste Whitfield, at all. I was Elaine Whitfield, her little sister, the one my family had never cared for. I stayed silent and struggled, trying to pry his hands off. But he was way too strong. The rumor going around was that Dorian Morris, the head of the Morris Group, had been in a severe car crash six months earlier. Not only was he completely blind, but his body was ruined too, a dead man walking who could die at any moment. But last night in bed, was there any sign of a ruined man about him? There had been a ferocity to him, like he wanted to devour me alive. He made me black out multiple times, and my throat was raw and hoarse from crying. "Still shy?" Dorian let out a soft chuckle, his long fingers trailing up my waistline. Everywhere he touched sent shivers through me. I hurriedly pressed down on his wandering hand and shook my head desperately. Sure, it was pitch black, and he was blind, so he couldn't see a thing. But I was terrified of how sharp his sense of touch was. "You don't want to go again?" His deep voice carried obvious teasing. I nodded desperately. I really couldn't go another round. If we did, I would drop dead right there. Dorian's fingers wrapped around mine instead, kneading my hand gently in his palm. Suddenly, he froze. His thumb brushed back and forth over the thin callus on the inner side of my right index finger. I'd had that callus since I was a kid from doing all the chores at home, years of cooking and washing clothes. Celeste, though, had never lifted a finger to do housework in her life. She spent thousands every month on hand care treatments, and the backs of her hands were softer than a baby's bottom. Alarm bells blared in my head. I scrambled to yank my hand away. "Honey, your hand..." Dorian dragged out his words. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, my heart hammering so hard I thought it would leap right out of my throat. Had he figured it out? Did he realize I wasn't Celeste? Just when I thought he was about to blow up, he let out a soft sigh, lifted my hand to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss to it. "This hand of yours scratched my back so hard last night." I let out a sigh of relief. While his guard was down, I pushed his hand away and slipped off the bed. I grabbed the clothes off the floor and threw them on. I didn't even bother with shoes. I ran barefoot out of that room thick with a steamy atmosphere.