Love Beyond the Mask novel Chapter 3

The man's gaze flickered back, his emotions unreadable. "You're not willing?"

Whitney bit her lip, troubled. She barely knew him, yet a child was on the way—a result of an unexpected encounter.-

He sauntered over, lifting her chin with a firm grip, admiring her beautiful, youthful face and tender red lips. "Some things I'd rather handle myself," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Whitney paused, confused.

His lips twisted into a sly smile, though his tone remained serious. "But I have a profound respect for life. We're going to have this baby."

His assertiveness took her aback, and Whitney suddenly understood his meaning. Her face flushed with embarrassment.

He strode coldly towards the door, which was suddenly blocked by an excited voice. "Little brat, if you dare come out tonight, I'll keel over right here!"

And then the sound of the door locking!

Whitney, bewildered, asked, "Who's that outside?"

"Your mother-in-law, Natalie."

Whitney was speechless.

He returned with a dark expression, pulling her towards the bed. His voice was a low, enticing whisper, "Will you play along?"

"With what?"

"Acting out our wedding night."

Speechless, Whitney looked up into his mature eyes that seemed to swallow her whole. Her cheeks burned even hotter as she realized what he meant. "But I... I don't know how."

He frowned, then suddenly pinned her to the headboard, his hands reaching for the ties of her dress.

"Ah! What are you doing?"

"Do you know how now?" He asked, one eyebrow raised in mischief.

Giggles of delight sounded from beyond the door. "Thank the Lord, the boy finally knows what he's doing!"

Pinned awkwardly beneath him, Whitney's bare shoulders glistened like cream, and he glanced over them, his gaze darkening as he inhaled a sweet fragrance.

They were so close that Whitney could feel the power of his muscles, her ears burning with a dangerous sensation. She just wanted him to leave and feigned a pained scream.

"Take it easy, son! Your wife is carrying our little treasure!"

Looking down at her flushed face, he asked, "Are you trying to get back at me?"

Whitney's eyes were wide and innocent. "Is that enough?"

His lips curled slightly. He did not press further, standing up and releasing her.

The air of restrained desire left with him as he sat down on the sofa, casually removing his tie. His broad shoulders and long legs gave him an air of unapproachable elegance.

Indeed, this man had every right to be conceited.

Whitney huddled at the head of the bed, glancing nervously at the door. "Are we going to sleep together tonight?"

"Do you want to?" He asked, picking up a magazine and sparing her a glance.

Whitney did not know what to say.

Then, with a melodic chuckle, he added, "Do you think I'd stoop to touching a young expectant mother?"

The tone was sarcastic and serious, calling her a ‘young expectant mother.’

Whitney felt a spark of anger. Was he that much older than her? She eyed his enigmatic silver mask, filled with curiosity about what lay beneath. Was it to hide ugliness or scars?

He remained seated, silent, as Whitney crawled under the covers. The room went dark with the flick of a switch.

Hesitantly, she ventured, "You seem to know everything about me, sir. May I know how old you are? Your surname?"

Silence.

He ignored her.

This man was enigmatic and difficult to get along with—his highborn mystery was something Whitney, of a distinguished family herself, recognized as the mark of a truly elite heritage.

"L." His deep voice broke the stillness as Whitney was on the verge of sleep.

He had given her just an initial, no name. Who was this man, and why did he hide his face? Did he know her?