As expected, it wasn''t really the wine that made her tipsy-sometimes it was just the atmosphere. Hawthorne reached over to feel Gwh''s flushed cheeks, then gently took her ss away.


    "That''s enough for now. Too much isn''t good for you," he said softly.


    Gwh didn''t protest. Instead, she ced her hand right over his, the warmth of her skin startling Hawthorne as if he''d touched a live wire. Yet she seemedpletely oblivious, her eyes bright and mischievous.


    "Come on, who do you think you''re dealing with? I can handle another round," she dered, reaching for the wine again.


    Hawthorne gave her a crooked half-smile. "I''m just worried that if you keep


    drinking, you''ll be too out of it for whates next."


    Thatment sobered her up almost instantly. Gwh''s head cleared in a sh, and even Hawthorne''s handsome face seemed less blurry.


    Wait. What did he just say?


    Whates next?


    A sudden heat crept up her neck. Hawthorne, meanwhile, had already gotten up to start clearing the dishes.


    The house was still new, and her great-grandfather hadn''t arranged for any staff or housekeepers, so they were left to handle everything themselves.


    "There''s some tea and fruit ready for you in the sitting room," Hawthorne called out. "Go have a drink, maybe watch a little TV to sober up. I''ll join you as soon as I''m done here."


    He gave her cheek a gentle pinch before heading off to tidy up.


    Gwh watched his tall, effortless figure move away, and-feeling sheepish— slipped into the sitting room.


    On the coffee table, she found a tray of snacks and neatly cut fruit, just as he''d promised.


    She''d eaten so much at dinner that she could barely move, but she distractedly sipped a little tea and nibbled on some fruit, mostly to busy her hands. Her attention, though, was entirely focused on the faint ttering from the kitchen.


    Whatever was on the oversized t-screen across from her, she didn''t register a single second of it.


    By the time Hawthorne finished in the kitchen and came out, Gwh had already fallen asleep curled up on the sofa.


    The TV was now ring somete-nightmercial for condoms and a well- known brand of lubricant.


    Hawthorne paused, then grabbed the remote and flicked the screen off. He scooped Gwh up in his arms and carried her upstairs to the master bedroom.


    He switched on the bedsidemp, filling the room with a warm, cozy glow.


    Gwh drifted in and out of sleep until the middle of the night, when she woke up to find herself nestled in the big bed.


    She heard the sound of running water from the bathroom, and through the frosted ss door, the outline of a man''s figure caught her off guard, sending heat rushing to her ears.


    She didn''t dare make a sound.


    Instead, she buried herself under the


    covers, holding her breath. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldnt banish that image from her mind, and she couldn''t help


    wondering what would happen if


    Hawthorne noticed she was awake.


    Gwh squeezed her eyes shut, determined to pretend to be asleep no matter what she heard or felt.


    But when the bathroom door finally opened, she couldn''t resist peeking out just a little. Hawthorne emerged, wrapped in a towel, the ends of his dark hair damp and dripping. The soft, amber light ented his reserved features, casting half his face in shadow and making him look both severe and untouchable.


    She braced herself for him toe to the bed, but he surprised her—he simply


    walked out and headed downstairs.


    Gwh felt a sudden emptiness in her chest. The spacious bedroom felt even farger with just her in it. It was only their first day as an official couple technically, their wedding night, even if there hadn''t been a party-and yet, here she was, left alone.


    The thought made her nose tingle with an unexpected sadness.


    Hiding under the covers, lost in mncholic thoughts, she suddenly felt two hands gently ruffle her hair.


    "I warmed up some milk for you," Hawthorne said quietly. "It''ll help you sleep better after all that wine."


    He''de back. Gwh, a little embarrassed, sat up and took the mug from his hands.


    "Thanks," she murmured.


    She finished the milk in one long gulp. Hawthorne had changed into silk pajamas,


    the buttons fastened all the way up, every inch the self-controlled, untouchable CEO.