Aside from that one night in the hotel, Elena Vance had never been this close to a man before. As she stood in the dim light of the bedroom, she couldn't help but blush. With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned Cillian Thorne's shirt, helping him ease it off his shoulders.
As the fabric fell away, Elena was stunned. Cillian's upper body was perfectly sculpted broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and beautifully defined muscles. Wasn't he supposed to be disabled? she wondered. How could a man who doesn't walk stay in such incredible shape?
As she reached to clear the last sleeve, her gaze caught a glimpse of a dark blue tattoo on his shoulder blade. The intricate design looked hauntingly familiar, but before she could place it, Cillian turned. Seeing her staring at his bare skin, and caught by the sweet, milky fragrance she emitted, a primal impulse surged through him.
Cillian's eyes darkened. He abruptly lunged forward, pulling her body flush against his and kissing her deeply.
The taste of her lips and the scent of her breath were a perfect match for his memories. Elena was taken aback, her heart hammering against her ribs. Realizing what was happening, she desperately tried to push him away, but Cillian was far stronger. He held her shoulders, his breathing growing heavy and domineering.
"Cillian... what are you doing...?" Elena's plea was broken as he forced her into a deeper embrace. His hand slid beneath her shirt, touching the smooth, slender skin of her waist. So smooth... just like that night...
Elena felt her top being pulled up, and in a moment of pure desperation, she bit his tongue!
The sharp pain snapped Cillian back to reality. He pulled away, the haze of lust replaced by a flash of regret. This was Elena Vance the "promiscuous substitute" not the innocent girl he had been searching for. Disgust at his own lack of control flared, and he instinctively shoved her away.
"Thump!"
Cillian hadn't moderated his strength. Elena hit the floor with a violent crash. Almost immediately, a sharp, stabbing pain radiated through her lower abdomen. She looked at Cillian in shock, her face turning the color of paper. Then, she felt it a warm, terrifying trickle flowing from her body.
My baby... please, not the baby...
"Call a doctor," Elena gasped, crawling toward his feet and clutching his pant leg. "Please... I'm in pain..."
Cillian looked down and froze. A pool of bright red was spreading across the carpet. Elena's eyes rolled back as she lost consciousness.
A strange, sharp pang struck Cillian's heart. Without thinking, he stood up from his wheelchair his legs perfectly stable and scooped her into his arms. He didn't care that the blood was staining his expensive clothes.
Just as he kicked open the bedroom door, Philip Woods was standing there, hand raised to knock. Philip's jaw dropped at the sight of Cillian standing.
"Get the car ready!" Cillian barked, his expression terrifyingly cold. "If anything happens to her, we lose the password!"
Philip stammered, "Yes, sir! But... sir, we've found the woman from that night!"
Cillian stopped dead. "What? Where?"
"She's downstairs, sir. She's waiting for you."
Cillian's expression shifted. He looked at the bleeding, unconscious Elena in his arms, then abruptly placed her back into his wheelchair. "You take her to the hospital!"
Without a backward glance, Cillian turned and headed toward the stairs.
The Imposter Arrives
In the living room, Cillian sat back in his wheelchair, hiding his mobility once more. He looked at the woman sitting across from him. She was beautiful, with delicate features and carefully applied makeup, but something felt... off.
"Mr. Thorne," the woman said, her voice shy and cautious. "That night... I left a lucky charm bracelet at the hotel. I was hoping you might have found it?"
Cillian's heart hammered. "That night... it was you?"
The woman Daphne Vance nodded slowly. She reached up, untying the strap of her silk dress and turning her back to him.
The next moment, under the soft glow of the chandelier, a lifelike ghost orchid birthmark appeared on her skin.
