The Billionaire's Accidental Bride

CHAPTER SEVEN

Old Wounds, New Sparks Sleeping beside Cole Hart was a unique kind of torture. I kept to the edge of the bed, a pillow fortress between us. But sometime during the night, I woke to warmth. His arm was around my waist. His breath on my neck. I froze. And then… I didn’t move. Because for one terrifying second, it felt good. I slipped out of bed like a ninja and spent the rest of the night on the couch. The next morning, Cole acted like nothing happened. “You’ll need to come to lunch with my mother today,” he said over coffee. I nearly choked. “What?” “She wants to meet my bride.” I groaned. “What if she hates me?” “She will.” That afternoon, we arrived at a pristine restaurant on the Upper East Side. Mrs. Hart was waiting, decked in pearls and judgment. “You’re prettier than I expected,” she said, inspecting me. “But your background is... average.” Cole interjected, “She’s brilliant. And successful.” I blinked at him. That sounded almost sincere. Mrs. Hart’s smile was sharp. “We’ll see how long this lasts.” After lunch, as we drove home, I leaned back in my seat. “She doesn’t like me,” I muttered. “She doesn’t like anyone.” Then Cole turned to me. “But I do.” And then he kissed me. On purpose. And I kissed him back.