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Came Back Hotter With The Heir's Love Novel Cover

Came Back Hotter With The Heir's Love

Dragged from a warm car and left in freezing mud at only three years old, Adria Carlisle was declared dead so her father, Herman Rich, could seize the Carlisle fortune for his wife and daughter. Seventeen years later, Dolores Rich stands ready to marry Hudson Davenport, the city's ruthless financial king, under a marriage contract that was never hers. But on the wedding day, as the priest asks for objections, the ballroom doors swing open. Adria, now dangerously powerful, walks down the aisle holding the original contract. She isn't there to cause trouble—she's there to take back what belongs to her, including the groom.
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Chapter 3

Hudson Davenport's silence was a heavy weight, pressing down on the entire ballroom. Dolores Rich, seeing a sliver of hope, scrambled to her feet and grabbed his trouser leg. "Hudson, you love me, don't you? We have feelings for each other! This woman is a liar!"

Hudson looked down at her, his eyes as cold and hard as granite. He slowly, deliberately, pulled his leg free from her desperate grasp.

He spoke to her for the first and last time that day. "Miss Rich, I believe there has been a misunderstanding. Our union was, from the very beginning, a business agreement."

His next words shattered her completely. "And you, clearly, are not the party named in the agreement." Dolores collapsed back onto the floor, all the color draining from her face.

Hudson turned to Adria. His dark gray eyes were impossible to read. He extended a hand. "Miss Carlisle, since you are the legal party to this contract, the wedding will proceed."

The decision stunned everyone, including Adria. She had expected a fight, a negotiation. She hadn't expected this swift, clean execution.

Arthur Davenport IV nodded in approval.

Adria looked at Hudson's outstretched hand but didn't take it. Instead, she asked a question. "Mr. Davenport, are you sure? Marrying a 'crazy woman' you just met could bring a lot of trouble."

For the first time that day, the corner of Hudson's mouth lifted in something that resembled a smile. "The Davenports don't fear trouble, Miss Carlisle. We solve it."

He countered, "And you? You went to all this trouble to get here. This is the moment you wanted, isn't it? Why hesitate now?"

Adria's ice-blue eyes met his. The air between them crackled with a silent challenge. After a few seconds, she placed her gloved hand in his large, warm one.

The contact was a jolt. She felt the heat of his palm, a stark contrast to the coldness of her own fingertips.

Herman and Caroline watched, aghast, as the scene unfolded. They tried to protest, but a single, sharp look from Arthur Davenport IV silenced them. Two of the Davenport's security guards moved to block their path.

"Clean up this mess," Arthur said to the wedding planner, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Then continue the ceremony."

Dolores, a sobbing wreck, was hauled to her feet by her equally devastated mother and escorted out of the ballroom like a dog being kicked out of a feast. Her final, venomous glare was fixed on Adria's back.

Herman was "invited" to a side room by the guards, to await his judgment after the ceremony.

The priest, after a moment of stunned confusion, received his instructions from the chief of staff. He cleared his throat, his face a mask of professional awkwardness, and tried to resume.

Adria still wore her black trench coat, a stark slash of darkness against the sea of white and pastel. But standing there on the altar, she looked more like the mistress of the house than anyone else.

Hudson did not let go of her hand. He led her to stand before the priest.

The priest looked at the bizarre new couple and stammered through the vows.

When he asked, "Do you take this man to be your husband?" Adria's response was, "I agree to execute the contract."

When he asked, "Do you take this woman to be your wife?" Hudson's reply was, "I will honor the agreement."

There was no love in their words, only the cold language of business. But it was more binding than any flowery promise.

When it came time to exchange rings, Hudson took the diamond ring meant for Dolores. It was obviously the wrong size for Adria's slender finger.

He glanced at her hand, then tossed the ring to his best man without a second thought. From his own pinky finger, he removed a heavy, antique signet ring bearing the Davenport family crest.

Without asking, he took Adria's hand and slid the ring, a symbol of Davenport male authority, onto her ring finger. It was too large, loose and heavy on her delicate hand.

"Now, you're mine," he murmured in her ear, his voice a low, possessive growl.

Adria's body went rigid. She could smell the clean, woodsy scent of his cologne, an aggressive, masculine fragrance.

She didn't pull away. Instead, she whispered back, "A temporary accessory to the contract."

The priest finally announced, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

The entire room held its breath, eager to see how this 'contract couple' would navigate the most intimate part of the ceremony.

Hudson slowly leaned in. Adria didn't move, but her eyes were wide and wary.

Just as their lips were about to touch, he stopped.

His thumb brushed lightly across her bottom lip, a fleeting, almost imperceptible touch. Then he straightened up and addressed the priest and the guests. "The ceremony is over."

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