The Wrong Heir

Summary

After we had shared the night together, the woman I had rescued—the one who claimed to have lost her memory—leaned back on my worn-out velvet sofa, her eyes tracking my movements.

I took a slow breath, letting the fading warmth of her touch cool on my skin, and walked into the cramped kitchen to start dinner.

I was halfway through chopping vegetables when her arms slipped around my waist from behind.

In the quiet of the apartment, she murmured against my shoulder, "Actually, my amnesia was a lie. I'm Gwen Prescott, the heiress to the Prescott estate."