As Charles—his physique rivaling that of a European supermodel—stepped into the bathtub spacious enough for two, Janet felt a sudden warmth spreading through her body. The chill that had gripped her before began to fade, replaced by a slow-burning heat.
"I know. I believe you," Charles said, his eyes burning with intensity as they fixed on her nervous little face. His Janet was always his. Only his.
"Charles…" Janet's large eyes misted over with tears as she soaked in the certainty and trust reflected in his gaze. This man, soon to be her husband, believed her without condition. How could she not be moved?
"Are you still angry?" Janet carefully edged closer, their two naked bodies pressed together. For the first time, she truly understood what it meant to have her heart race—only the man she loved could make her feel this way. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding and yet longed to be even closer.
