Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

He lay staring at the ceiling, every thought circling back to Cathryn. Maybe she’d left that lace behind on purpose. Maybe her innocent look was just another move—bait to see how far she could push him.

But Andrew prided himself on his composure. He was in control, always. No woman—no matter how tempting—would ever turn him inside out.

In the morning, Margaret slipped in for routine cleaning. The moment her eyes landed on the trash can and the crumpled, damp tissues inside, she paused.

She didn’t need to guess.

Heat crept up her face, and she quietly went about her work, pretending she hadn’t noticed a thing.