Mrs Harlow
Aria woke to soft light spilling through the tall windows of Ethan’s penthouse.
Far below, New York city seemed bright, with cars crawling like ants along the distant streets.
She stretched beneath the warm sheets and smiled when Ethan’s arm tightened around her waist. He was still asleep, his breath slow and even against her neck.
His dark hair stuck up in messy waves from last night, and she loved how calm he looked...with no sharp suit, no boardroom frown. Just Ethan...Her handsome husband. The man who had chosen her after all the pain.
Six months married, and every morning still felt like a secret gift.
She turned gently to watch him. His lips were slightly parted, as if he were dreaming of something sweet. She brushed her fingertips along his cheek.
His eyes flutte
