A Substitute Bride for Mr Billionaire

CHAPTER 5

Demitra's Pov

He left just as abruptly as he came.

I'm impotent. I'd always wanted to have kids. So, what did this revelation mean for me?

My breathing returned back to normal soon after he left but it was replaced by another fear.

He knew who I was.

And his confession? Was it some sort of blackmail?

All day, the next day, I stayed up in the bedroom, convinced that at any moment, Erin would return to unleash his wrath.

I even went as far as pretending to be ill.

“Just a migraine,” I said to Serene when she served my breakfast in bed.

She looked at me with genuine concern, “The wedding stress, perhaps. Or maybe something you ate?”

Somehow, I convinced Serene to call the doctor – a brisk man in his sixties.

"Heart rate elevated, but nothing alarming," He said after a thorough exam as he packed away his tools, “"Blood pressure normal, no fever. You're in perfect health, Mrs. Carter. Perhaps a bit of anxiety? Weddings can do that to a girl.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, “Yes, anxiety. That's all it is.”

He patted my hand patiently, “Rest, hydrate, and try some light exercise tomorrow. You'll be right as rain.”

And all the while I waited.

But he never came.

As day turned to night, I felt some sort of relief.

Maybe somehow he had forgotten me. Maybe somehow he had decided that I was not worth the trouble.

So I decided to free up a bit. At least, within the walls of the bedroom. I took a long, hot bath, then sat at the vanity, rubbing body butter into my skin as I prepared for bed.

And that was when the door opened.

I stopped mid-rub, my hand freezing in the air. His reflection appeared in the mirror behind me.

His gaze was dark and intense. Lustful.

He drew closer to me slowly and even though every sense in my body screamed danger, I could not do anything to help the situation.

He stopped behind me and bent down until his face was only a few inches away from my shoulder.

His breath felt warm on my skin as he inhaled. His nose brushed against my skin and I stiffened.

The vanilla scent of my body butter mixed with his own masculine cologne filled my nose.

He placed his hand on my shoulder, causing me to flinch, but only slightly.

He began to rub his thumb around in slow circles while his gaze held mine in the mirror.

And even though my body shook slightly, I was unable to tear my gaze away from him.

In slow motion, he slipped the spaghetti straps of my dress off my shoulders until the fabric fell to my waist.

The upper part of my body was now naked and it shone with the body butter I had applied on it.

He didn't say anything, only took in my reflection with silent admiration in his eyes.

“Stand,” His command sent a shiver down my spine.

I stood slowly and my nightdress pooled at my feet.

I was now completely naked under his gaze. He held my hand and helped me step out of the dress. As his fingers brushed my skin, I held my breath.

He took a moment to admire me, his eyes sweeping over my body slowly and carefully as if he intended to master every curve and every detail of me.

He stepped closer to me, so close that I could now feel the heat of his body.

My heart was pounding so hard at the thought that he was going to kiss me.

Was it fear? Or desire?

I did not know but my eyes fluttered close and I waited.

But when I did not feel his lips on mine, they fluttered open again.

He was holding a delicate, thin gold chain, “Turn around,”

His voice was calm, as if this was a normal occurrence for him.

I turned my back to him, heart racing and my skin, sensitive to even the slightest touch. He crouched behind me so that my ass was only a few inches away from his face.

Then he draped the chain around my waist. His fingers traced the delicate jewellery as he fastened it.

Despite myself, a shiver of excitement ran through me.

He stood, slowly moving his hands up my back, tracing the line of my spine.

I closed my eyes and bit back the moan that was threatening to escape.

His hands continued to advance upwards to the nape of my neck.

I waited for his fingers to curl around my throat, to pull me closer.

But the touch never came.

When I opened my eyes and looked at the mirror again, he was already at the door, his fingers twisting the knob.

And just before he walked out through the door, he said to me, in a voice devoid of any sort of emotion.

“Get dressed. We have a dinner to attend,”