The Wrong Woman

Imogen found herself completely lost in Jasper's deep, commanding kiss, unable to pull away.

She didn't know when she had started to give in, but his kiss made her lose control and her body responded in ways she couldn't comprehend.

His dominant presence left her weak. She melted in his arms. Under the intensity of his kiss, she felt light-headed, her mind going blank.

Jasper's lips and tongue were tantalizing, while his strong chest felt warm against her. His body radiated heat.

Imogen's legs grew weak, and before she knew it, he had guided her out of the kitchen.

Their bedroom was upstairs, but fearing she might regain her senses and push him away, Jasper pressed her onto the living room couch instead.

Disoriented by his kisses, Imogen's breathing became erratic, and her body grew uncomfortably warm.

heightening the heated, intimate atmosphere. He reached for the remote on the coffee

was utterly lost in the moment. It wasn't until a sharp pain snapped her back to reality

head away from his kiss, pounding her fists weakly against his chest. "Jasper,

Imogen," Jasper murmured, his voice pained,

was acting, he felt it necessary to claim her, to sever her thoughts of divorce. He wanted to leave her with no room to escape him. Before, he had avoided touching her, hoping she would fall in love with him first. But

He had claimed her innocence, in her

she despised him, a hatred born from her frustration and rage. She didn't know how she endured the long, painful

face, and whispered apologies, yet remained

With her aching

brightly lit living room, Jasper sat on the couch after putting on his clothes. He stared solemnly

this. The realization of it pained him deeply as if a weight pressing