The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 298

Laura choked on her food, coughing so hard the half-chewed morsel nearly launched across the table. “I hit you with a belt?”

“Yes. I'm fairly certain the welt is still on my chest. Want to inspect the evidence?” His hands hovered near his shirt buttons, ready to peel away the fabric.

“N-No, that won't be necessary,” she blurted, color rushing to her cheeks.

Weston leaned in, eyes sharp as broken glass. “You honestly don't remember a single thing you did to me last night?”

Under that stare, Laura's confidence crumpled. “I was drunk,” she murmured. “Everything after a point is blurry.”

“Shall I give you the unabridged recap?” he offered.

She drew a breath like someone bracing for surgery. “Forget the details. Tell me what you want, and let's settle this.”

“If my girlfriend pulled a stunt like this, I'd call it flirting,” Weston drawled, every syllable slow and deliberate. “But if she isn't my girlfriend, I can sue for harassment.”

The words lodged in Laura's throat.

“Harassment?” She replayed the video in her mind and had to admit it did look that way. He could have pushed me away, so why didn't he? Wasn't he setting me up?

“I can pay you,” Laura said carefully. “Let's settle this—name your price.”

“Settle? Pay?” Weston let out a low, amused sound. “Laura, do I look like I need your pocket change?”

“Then what exactly do you want?” she demanded, annoyance flaring.

“Get back together with me,” Weston said, utterly unruffled, “and after that you can 'play' with me however you like.”

Laura blinked—one slow, incredulous flutter of her lashes. The man always looked like a straight-laced aristocrat; who would have thought he could utter something so shameless?

“I have a boyfriend,” Laura muttered. “Getting back with you is impossible.”

Weston set down his fork. “A boyfriend? If that's true, feel free to call him right now. I'll let him watch the video too. Think he's broad-minded enough to learn his girlfriend still pines for her ex?”

Laura's teeth clicked together. “My boyfriend knows I was drunk. He won't mind—he's generous.”

“Then call him. Assuming, of course, the man actually is your boyfriend.”

Laura stared, momentarily at a loss. Psychological trauma? If anyone should need therapy after what happened, it ought to be me!

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify