Substitute Marriage: The Billionaire's Hidden Queen

The heavy layers of tulle and silk pressed down on Cassie's legs, the stiff fabric digging into her skin. She sat frozen on the edge of the king-sized bed in the Frederick Manor master bedroom, her eyes locked on the heavy oak door.

Her fingers dug into the leather mattress, knuckles bone-white.

The brass doorknob turned.

A sharp jolt shot through her chest. Her spine snapped straight. The air trapped in her lungs refused to leave.

The door pushed open.

Dane Frederick stepped into the room. Tall, broad-shouldered, his presence swallowed the space instantly. The sheer physical weight of him made Cassie's leg muscles twitch, a primal urge to bolt, but she forced herself to stay planted on the bed.

He reached behind him and pushed the door shut.

The lock clicked. The sharp metallic sound echoed in the dead silence.

Cassie's heart slammed against her ribs, erratic and painful.

Dane moved toward her. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, silent against the thick Persian rug. With every inch he closed, the air grew heavier.

Cassie bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper.

He stopped right in front of her. He stood tall, looking down with dark eyes that held no warmth, cutting straight through her.

Cassie tilted her chin up, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Her stomach twisted into tight, painful knots.

Dane raised his hand. His fingers caught the edge of her veil and flipped it back over her head.

The cold, air-conditioned air hit her face. Her special-effects makeup—the angry red burn scars covering the left side of her face—was fully exposed in the dim light.

Cassie squeezed her eyes shut. Her shoulders braced for the explosion of disgust, the shouting, the violence.

Seconds ticked by.

Silence.

No sharp intake of breath. No curse words.

Confusion pulled her eyes open.

Her gaze crashed straight into Dane's. No fear. No revulsion. His face was a mask of cold stone.

His eyes dragged slowly over the textured fake scars on her cheek. The intensity of his stare burned against her skin.

Cassie swallowed hard, her throat clicking in the quiet room. She turned her head, unable to bear the weight of his scrutiny.

Dane leaned down.

His face stopped inches from hers. Warm breath, laced with mint, brushed against her collarbone.

Cassie's eyes widened. Her chest heaved against the tight corset.

His hand clamped onto the back of her neck.

The heat of his palm seared through her skin. The fine hairs on her arms stood straight up. A violent shiver ripped down her spine.

His rough thumb moved. It pressed exactly over the small, crescent-shaped birthmark hidden just below her hairline. He rubbed the spot, slow and deliberate.

Cassie's lungs seized. She thought he was positioning his hand to snap her neck.

Something dark flickered in Dane's eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

The danger radiating from him was suffocating.

Cassie's survival instinct took over. She shoved both hands hard against his chest.