Law #2: Don't Play with a Player: A Sweet Office Romance Story (Laws of Love) by Agnes Canestri (i am reading a book TXT) 📗

me to the suite so Morgan could be close to him, then he must’ve decided to rekindle with her as soon as he saw her at the reception. A new wave of nausea hits me as I realize Morgan wasn’t at the gala tonight. At least I didn’t see her there.

Maybe she and Devon made arrangements to only meet at night? This seems reasonable. The woman is married, after all. Perhaps she fears the scandal.

But how can Devon accept to be with her after she stomped on his heart? Is it just a physical desire he has for her, or is he still smitten with his ex?

What does this mean for me?

Was I just a distraction to Devon? A warm-up for his night of passion with Morgan?

The hungry glint in Devon’s eyes when he embraced me flashes through my mind, and I shudder.

Whatever Devon’s reason for kissing me, it can’t be an honest interest in me. It was lust that I saw in his gaze—and only a temporary one at best.

It can’t be more, given that he’s now in bed with Morgan.

The sobs erupt from my throat with the violence of a volcano at this humiliating thought.

I throw myself on the bed and let my tears free flow. I hug my torso and squeeze my eyes shut. What hurts most isn’t that Devon is still the playboy he claimed he didn’t want to be or that he might have feelings for his ex.

No, the most painful part is the realization that even though Devon will never love me, my heart will belong to him forever.

Chapter 45

(Devon)

“What are you doing here, Morgan?” I ask.

Staying in place would mean I’ll be forced into close contact with her negligee-covered body, so I take the safer approach and back off a few steps.

Morgan passes the threshold into my room and pulls the door shut behind her. “Do you know what I’m up to, Dev?”

“No, but I reckon you’re about to go to sleep. That’s a nightgown you’re wearing.”

This is not my best guess about why Morgan showed up here, but I hope if I pretend not to understand her real intentions, Morgan won’t actually spell it out, and I won’t be forced to act like a jerk with her.

“Indeed, it is. You like it?” Morgan purrs, and from the taunting way she wiggles her brows, I fear my feigned ignorance won’t save me from what’s about to come.

She runs a hand on the contour of her see-through kimono, apparently unaware that my mind isn’t hung up on her figure.

“It’s nice. A gift from Theo?” I ask.

Morgan winces as I mention her husband’s name, and for a second, her gaze drops to the floor. Then she shakes her head and raises her chin again. “As a matter of fact, it is. But he didn’t even see it on me yet. No time between his many business trips.”

The bitter edge of her voice is hard to ignore.

I can see that Morgan is in a confused place right now. From what she told me about her marriage, she must not be particularly happy.

But I’m not the solution to her boredom.

My heart beats only for one woman, and she’s probably sleeping like an angel a few floors above me. But even in my most hardcore playboy days, I would have never considered fooling around with someone who was spoken for.

I decide to be more explicit. “Morgan, I don’t claim to know why you came here to wish me good night in person. But I have the feeling you weren’t motivated by the right reasons. So…” I let my voice trail off, giving her the chance to back off with her dignity intact.

Morgan eyes my bare chest—I curse myself for not putting on a shirt right away when I spotted her—and a weak smile plays on her lower lip. “Perhaps. But then again, perhaps not.” She tilts her chin up so her green eyes meet mine. “You know I’ve been angry with you here at the gala.”

I snort. “I realized that. You stormed out on me in a rather dramatic way.”

Morgan sighs, then lifts her shoulders and purses her lips in such a harmonious flow I wonder whether she practices this particular gesture in the mirror.

“Well, what can I say? I’m not good at taking refusals. Also, I was shocked because you could never resist me in the past.” Her eyes drift to the ceiling.

“Much has changed since we were together,” I murmur.

Her gaze darts back to my face. “Yes, indeed. That’s what I realized once I was back in my room. I started thinking and arrived at the conclusion that I might’ve expected too much of you.”

“Come again?”

She runs a hand through her blond tresses. “I thought you were ready to settle down like that tabloid article suggested. But what if you aren’t? Being a playboy isn’t the worst thing in the world. I shouldn’t have chided you.”

I could start a discussion with Morgan about how I’m not a playboy anymore. But any additional information I bring up may prolong her stay in my room, and I would prefer it if she left.

I shrug. “Okay, thanks for this.”

Morgan smiles. “No problem. Your preference for fleeting pleasure actually made me see an alternative solution for my problem. Maybe I don’t have to leave Theo. I just need to create some fun in my life, then it will be easier to handle my husband’s shortcomings.”

“I’m glad you decided to salvage your marriage, Morgan,” I say, but I can’t help the cautious undertone in my voice.

The new direction of Morgan’s thoughts seems as troublesome as her idea of getting back together with me.

Morgan takes a step toward me. “So what do you say? Want to lend me a hand?”

“In what exactly?”

“Spicing up my life, of course.”

“You leave me speechless with this offer,” I say while I think of the least brutal way of refusing her again.

Morgan might’ve cheated on me in the past, but I also betrayed her.

I didn’t love her the way I