Love beneath the Skin

“No!” In the upstairs lounge, Jada Brooks melted bonelessly against Walter Grant, her small hands clutching at his chest, her lips teasingly biting. “If you don’t stop now, Miss Quinn will start to worry.”

Tonight was Carmen Quinn’s birthday — the heiress of the Quinn family — and also the night of her engagement party with Walter.

The grand ballroom downstairs was crowded with guests.

But upstairs, in the private lounge, Walter — the groom-to-be — was breathing heavily, his suit in disarray, holding Jada as though nothing else mattered, ready to give in completely to temptation.

“I told you, the engagement with Carmen is just a temporary arrangement.” Jada’s faint resistance made Walter frown instinctively.

He looked at the delicate, doll-like woman in his arms, and a shadow of grief clouded his deep gaze.

Sophia Quinn...

She had been gone for three whole years.

Since losing her, not a single day had been easy.

But he had no choice — he had to stay strong, to protect the Quinn family in her stead.

His grip on Jada’s shoulders tightened. The memory of the day Sophia died crashed over him, flooding him with guilt.

It was his fault.

If he hadn’t been so overconfident — thinking he could save her from the kidnappers himself — if he hadn’t chosen to rescue the frail Carmen first… Sophia wouldn’t have died.

The suffocating despair threatened to drown him.

Walter’s eyes turned bloodshot. He bent down fiercely and kissed Jada until the taste of blood filled their mouths, pulling him back from the brink of collapse.

They were clearly two very different women — from height to appearance — yet somehow, Jada carried that elusive, familiar quality he had only ever felt with Sophia.

It was that one shred of “familiarity” that became his last lifeline, pulling him back to life.

“Mm…” In the chaos, Jada’s dress strap slipped, exposing her cool skin.

Walter forgot where they were, lifted Jada into his arms — ready to lose control completely —

— when someone suddenly knocked at the door.

“Walter, are you in there?” A gentle, harmless female voice sounded, just like in his memory.

At the sound, Walter’s dazed mind cleared. He carefully set Jada back down, fixed her clothes, and went to open the door.

As the handle turned, the mocking curve that flashed across Jada’s lips was swallowed by the shadows.

“Walter, all the guests are here, we—” Carmen’s words stopped short when she saw Jada standing in the room. The warmth in her face nearly cracked, revealing a twisted, ugly edge.

Jada took her time, watching the other woman’s expression darken, and smiled faintly. “Miss Quinn, happy birthday.”

Carmen almost lost control of her face, forcing out a stiff smile. “Thank you.”

Then she reached for Walter’s hand. “Come on, everyone’s waiting downstairs — my parents too.”

Walter hesitated, frowned, then glanced back at Jada. “Get something to eat first. I’ll come find you later.”

Then he followed Carmen downstairs.

Jada ignored Carmen’s warning look, calmly smoothed her skirt and walked toward the door.

Just as her hand touched the handle, a faint sound reached her — the quiet click of wheelchair wheels rolling across the floor.

Jada froze. Looking down, she saw the shadowed, severe face of Caius Martino as he rolled toward her, his gaze like shards of ice.

Jada’s eyes flickered, and she nodded politely. “Mr. Martino.”

The wheelchair rolled into the lounge.

With a sharp click, the door locked again, and Caius stopped directly in front of Jada, saying nothing.