The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

"Care to explain? What kind of 'interest' are we talking about here, hmm?"

Gwyneth's cheeks burned with embarrassment. Sandwiched in his arms like this, how was she supposed to answer? Her mind felt like it was short-circuiting.

Hawthorne glanced down at the small figure in his embrace, lips quirking in amusement. No wonder she could squeeze herself into that strange oversized plush costume.

"I just―"

Gwyneth's breath hitched as he tipped her chin up. Without warning, Hawthorne leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

Her brain went utterly blank at the contact.

This was the second time he'd stolen a kiss without warning.

The first had been in the car-a fleeting brush while they waited for the light to change. Even though they'd spent several nights tangled together since, Gwyneth was pretty sure they hadn't kissed like this again.

Well, maybe he'd snuck a kiss while she was asleep and she'd never noticed.

He tightened his hold around her waist, never breaking the kiss, and maneuvered them both toward the bed.

Gwyneth knew exactly what was coming next. Even if she'd never been on this ride before, she'd certainly seen it from the sidelines.

But they were married now. It was only natural, wasn't it?

He laid her gently on the bed, somehow pinning her wrists above her head. Hawthorne's devastatingly handsome face hovered over hers, and the subtle scent of cedar and spice from his cologne made her pulse race.

He finally let her lips go, only to trail kisses along her jaw, down her slender neck, and behind her ear where her skin was most sensitive. His warm breath sent shivers through her whole body.noveldrama

"Uncle..." she stammered, voice barely more than a whisper.

He didn't seem interested in stopping. His lips brushed her ear as he murmured, "Call me 'husband.""

Her clothes slipped away, one layer at a time. His deep, velvety voice made her melt.

"Say it again," he coaxed.

Gwyneth clung to him, trembling like a leaf in an autumn breeze. "H-husband..."

He traced her lips with his fingertips, pressing gently. "Good girl. Once more."

He liked hearing it-Gwyneth could feel her heart pounding in her throat. Emboldened by his touch, she slowly let herself follow his lead, he own longing rising to meet his.

They kissed and explored each other for nearly half an hour, the tension building until Hawthorne's self-control finally snapped.

But just as things were about to spiral out of control, a sudden, sharp cramp

twisted in Gwyneth's lower belly. A sinking feeling washed over her.

Hawthorne noticed immediately. Her delicate brows drew together in pain, the haze in her eyes replaced by a look of distress.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concern chasing away the last of his desire.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, frustrated and mortified.

Oh, come on-not now. Could her period really have picked this exact moment to arrive? The universe had a cruel sense of humor.

She'd been tense earlier, but by her count, she still had three more days. Was it possible her body had gotten too excited and decided to jump the gun?

The metallic tang in the air confirmed her fears. Hawthorne's gaze flicked to the white sheets, now stained with a small patch of dark red.

He moved away from her at once, leaving Gwyneth lying dazed and mortified.

Was he really that pragmatic? The moment he realized she was on her period, he just turned and walked out-no explanation, no comfort, nothing. What did he take her for?

She was about to feel both furious and humiliated when Hawthorne pushed the door open again. This time, he carried a glass of water, a packet of painkillers, a box of tampons, and fresh underwear.

“Can you get up? Your clothes are a bit messy."

Gwyneth stared at the items in his hands, wanting to sink right through the floor from embarrassment. But as the shame gave way, she felt a surge of unexpected warmth. So that's what he'd been doing-getting things ready for her. She'd thought he'd just left her behind.