The Alpha CEO’s Unloved Wife

Broken 

On Tuesday morning, Jane woke beneath Baron, his body over and within her, as all their brief periods of sleep through-out her heat had been spent, and found that, in her sleep, she had put her arms around him, her palms against the skin of his back, holding him tightly to her, and her face was turned in to his, her cheek against his and her lips against the point at which shoulder met neck.

She stayed still, her eyes closed, luxuriating in the feel of him against her. This was, she thought, how lovers and mates lay, wrapped, and tangled in each out, skin to skin, body to body, cheek to cheek.

His phone began to chime, and after a moment he groaned, and reached out over her towards the bedside table without moving his body. She reached up and pulled it down to where he could reach it. 

"Thank you,” he said against her neck, before answering it. “Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you, Mr Western,” the woman on the other side of the phone apologised.

He sighed heavily. “Yes, Judith?”

“The paperwork on the purchase of the brewery has arrived and is ready for

signing, the jeweller has sent through an estimate on that piece you ordered, the Gleesons have asked to reschedule for tomorrow, the architect has plans on the extension ready for review, an invitation has arrived for a masquerade ball at the Adairs, and the bank called about the…”

over onto his back.

you, Mr Western.”

face Jane. “Your heat

“Yes,” she agreed.

bed. He pulled on his trousers, shoved his feet into his loafers, and pulled on

the bed, holding the sheets against her chest, and fought back

had been fitted with new glass and the bedroom cleaned, the bed remade with fresh sheets. She showered and viewed the contents of her closet with frustrated disgust. Plain Jane, she thought. She certainly

was not as if she had anything better to do with her day, anyway. In the weeks since marrying Baron, her days

street. She drove into the city and parked her car in a secured car park before walking down and onto the street. She browsed through the

clerks used, she thought, she did not register as a serious shopper. Inevitably they would zero in on someone who arrived

normally buy or wear, but because she could see Angelique in it. She set her shoulders, bit back on her teeth, and marched in, finding her size and

with the woman in the next store, a thick pile of clothing passing in and out, and a hanger already devoted either to purchases or rejects, Jane did not know, as she closed the curtains into her change

to see her reflection at different angles, her hands stroking the dress down her thighs. It fit like a second skin, the sheer lace overlay intricately walking a line between

woman said. “Knowing that he