Annabelle Linton was furious, but there was nothing she could do.
...
The next morning, Leona Grant was still asleep when Annabelle Linton came to his side and nudged him anxiously. "Leona Grant, Leona Grant, wake up. I need to tell you something."
Leona Grant's eyes remained lazily shut. The morning light cast across his chiseled face, highlighting his perfect profile. He was handsome and utterly captivating.
Where the silk comforter had slipped away, his firm muscles were exposed. He exuded an air of sated satisfaction, his innate sex appeal on full display.
Even for someone as naturally aloof and indifferent to physical beauty as Annabelle Linton, the sight made her heart skip a beat in stunned admiration.
Having exerted himself all night, Leona Grant was a little tired. He reached out, pulled her domineeringly into his arms, and rolled over to pin her beneath him. "What is it?" he asked, his voice husky. "Tell me..."
