The Tycoon's Awakening: Losing My Wife

Duke's chest heaved against Camelia's. His breath was scorching hot, panting heavily against the sensitive skin of her neck.

He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder. He opened his mouth and bit down gently on her collarbone, his teeth scraping against her skin.

The chemical fire in Camelia's blood destroyed her defenses. A soft, involuntary gasp escaped her lips.

Duke's large hand slid down her waist. He grabbed her hip bone and forcefully pulled her pelvis flush against his.

There was no space left between them. Camelia could feel the hard, undeniable evidence of his physical arousal pressing into her stomach.

The drug was melting her brain. Her struggles turned into a weak, trembling grip on his shirt fabric.

Camelia squeezed her eyes shut. In the darkness of her mind, she forced herself to imagine the man holding her was Joseph. She needed it to be Joseph.

Duke lifted his head. He crashed his mouth down onto hers. It was a brutal, invasive, and deeply hungry kiss.

Driven by pure physiological instinct and the drug pumping through her heart, Camelia's lips parted. She kissed him back.

They were seconds away from crossing the point of no return.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Violent pounding on the bedroom door shattered the heavy, lust-filled air in the room.

"Duke!" Karly Morrow's shrill voice screamed through the thick wood. "Duke, open up!"

Karly kept banging. "Christabel just called! She's crying! She says her kidney is in agonizing pain!"

Duke's massive body froze instantly. It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.

He ripped his mouth away from Camelia's. He took a sharp step back, gasping for air.

The lust and drug-induced haze vanished from his eyes. It was replaced instantly by pure panic and crushing guilt.

Duke looked down at Camelia. Her face was flushed red, her lips swollen, her silk shirt wrinkled and pulled off her shoulder.

In the span of one second, the look in Duke's eyes shifted from burning desire to absolute, stomach-churning disgust.

He reached out and shoved her chest. It was a rough, dismissive push.

Camelia stumbled backward, her shoulder blades hitting the closet door again.

Duke turned his back to her. He roared at the door, "Karly! Go find the butler and get the master key right now!"

Ten seconds later, the metallic click of a key turning sounded in the lock. The door swung open.

Duke rapidly buttoned his shirt collar. His hands didn't shake at all.

He didn't look back. He didn't spare a single glance at the woman shivering in the corner of the room.

Duke sprinted out the door, his heavy footsteps chasing after Karly down the hallway until the sound completely disappeared.

Camelia's legs gave out. She slid slowly down the smooth wood of the closet door until she hit the floor.

She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs.

The drug was still burning in her veins, making her skin hot and sweaty. But inside her chest, a massive block of ice was forming.

She stared at the empty, open doorway. The physical ache in her heart stopped. It just went completely numb.

Camelia rested her chin on her knees. She closed her eyes, trying once again to summon Joseph's gentle smile to soothe the raw edges of her panic. But the image fractured. The lingering scent of Duke's cologne and the phantom pressure of his grip were too suffocating. The fantasy was failing her. In that cold, empty room, a crushing exhaustion washed over her. The painful illusion of using memories to survive the present was no longer working. The toll of enduring this toxic charade was finally outweighing the safety of her quiet compliance.