Bound To My Husband

The air nearly left my lungs when he looked up from his phone, giving me his full attention like I was some kind of entertainment.

It was him. The stranger whose bed I had just been in not long ago.

He stood up and walked toward me, that familiar smirk making my heart race. He extended his hand for a handshake. "It is nice to meet you, Allison."

I froze. My brain completely shut down, and I just stared blankly at him. My dad raised his brows, gesturing sharply for me to take his hand.

I forced myself to reach out. The moment our fingers touched, a shock ran through me.

As if that wasn't enough, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the back of my hand. His lips against my skin made my stomach knot completely. I couldn't breathe as the memories of last night rushed back all at once.

"You two are acting strange," my dad noted, looking between us curiously. "Have you met before?"

"No," I gasped out quickly.

"Yes," he countered at the exact same time, finally letting go of my hand.

My dad frowned, confused. "Which one is it, yes or no?"

"We met yesterday," he explained, his eyes locking onto mine with a wicked glint. "Your daughter was surprisingly friendly. I wasn't expecting it."

I couldn't speak. Panic and shame choked me. I knew exactly what he was talking about, and he loved every second of my terror.

A slow, knowing smile spread across my dad's face. "I knew you two were a perfect match. That's why I wanted you to meet Logan from the very beginning, but you kept refusing."

I reached down for the hem of my dress and squeezed it tightly, trying to steady my breath as I watched the both of them.

"Logan will be merging with our company as soon as you both get married." My father beamed, a proud look radiating from his face. "Logan is an absolute workaholic."

"True," Logan agreed, his gaze locking onto mine with a wicked glint. "I’ve always had great stamina. When I find something I like, I tend to stay up all night making sure I've explored every single possibility. I don't like leaving things unfinished."

A physical jolt of shame hit me. He was throwing my own behavior back in my face, mocking me, enjoying the exact moment I began falling apart right in front of my father. I bit my lip hard, fighting the urge to fidget.

I looked straight at my dad, my mind spinning. "I thought you said he was your best friend?" I scrambled for words, completely lost. "He looks... I mean, isn't he too young?"

"Age doesn't determine friendship. I have known Logan for nine years, and we have been partners ever since his parents passed away," my dad explained. "He understands me better than anyone. He is my best friend."

Logan casually sat on the edge of the hospital bed. The shared chuckle between the two men only made the room feel smaller, suffocating me. How could I ever explain this to my dad? That I had tried to cheat on my future husband because I assumed he was some old businessman, only to end up sleeping with the actual man himself? Logan would never look at me with respect again.

"Dad, I really should go," I choked out, my voice trembling.

I grabbed my bag and bolted for the door, moving faster than lightning. Behind me, heavy, deliberate footsteps followed immediately.

I burst out into the hospital corridor, my legs shaking so badly I felt like a jellyfish, desperate to escape his piercing gaze.

A firm grip wrapped around my wrist, halting me instantly.

"Allison." He murmured my name, his deep voice softening just enough to make me stop. "Are you trying to run away from me?"

He stepped into my space, looming over me, trapping me against his imposing frame.

"I'm too ashamed to look at you," I whispered, swallowing hard as tears threatened to spill. "I don't want you to hate me."

"It's quite the opposite." He stepped into my space, his dark presence completely overwhelming me. When he leaned down, our lips were almost touching. "The moment your dad sent me your picture and I realized who you were, I had people keep an eye on you."

The truth clicked. That was how he knew exactly which club I was at last night.

He cupped my face, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear. I leaned into his touch, my eyes closing involuntarily as a shiver ran down my spine. His hand lingered on my cheek before sliding down to the nape of my neck, pulling me flush against his chest as he claimed my lips.

Last night had been hungry and wild, but this kiss was different. It was deeply passionate, possessive, and alluring. For a second, the hospital corridor melted away and I felt like I was floating.

His chest pounded against mine, heavy and demanding. His breath hitched in his throat, a quiet sound of defeat, right before he finally tore his lips away and pulled back.

"You don't hate me for stalking you, do you?" A low chuckle vibrated in his throat.

"No," I breathed, shaking my head. If his shadow hadn't been watching over me, my desperation last night might have landed me in the wrong hands.

His intimidating posture softened, and for a moment, the fierce businessman vanished. He looked at me with open vulnerability, almost desperate. "I am hosting a gala tomorrow night. Please, Allison... say you'll come with me. I really need you there."

"Yes," I promised, a sudden flutter of butterflies erupting in my stomach at how deeply he wanted me there.

"My driver will pick you up at seven," he murmured, a relieved smile brushing his lips. "I need to go now; I have business to finish with your father." He turned and walked back into the ward, leaving a trail of his intoxicating scent behind.

I finally let out the breath I had been holding, my face burning crimson.