Morning after end of Bitter Secrets

We're going back to the beginning of the book! Bitter Confessions ends after the Trentham Ball, so I'm going back to the beginning. I'm currently writing book 4, Bitter Sins, and am going to try not to show scenes from that book since it would just make everything so much more confusing. (Bitter Sins picks up on the same night that BC ends.) I'm trying to get as far as I can on that book before I start revisions on BC (January). I listed my schedule and more detail about the series in my book update.

Those of you who were part of my first Patreon may remember this snippet. This is what I was going to include as the sneak peek at the back of Bitter Secrets, but I decided to use the clip from the Trentham Ball instead. Roth carries her from the bed to the tub for a soak the morning after the end of Bitter Secrets.

After seeing the climax of the book, this back to basics may seem a little jarring, but I'll be touching on a lot of chapters I skipped and you'll get to see more of the progression of their relationship and the major changes in their dynamic in this book.

When the temperature was bearable, she adjusted the taps again and cautiously sank into the water.

To her dismay, he crouched beside the tub, arms braced on the edge, eyeing her with an unblinking stare that unnerved her. She moved as far away from him as she could, fit herself into a niche, and swished her hands beneath the water as her body adjusted to the extreme shift in temperature.

“You have meetings,” she said quietly. “I can take care of myself.”

“They’ve been rescheduled.”

Her eyes flicked back to his. “Why?”

“We didn’t finish our discussion last night.”

Her stomach dipped. “We said all we needed to say.”

He didn’t contradict her, he just watched her.

“I don’t want to fight anymore!”

“No fighting,” he said mildly as his fingertips swished through the rising water. “At least not on my part.”

Her spine snapped to attention. “Oh, so I’m the problem?”

His eyes gleamed while his expression remained perfectly neutral. “You kicked my shin. I have a bruise.”

Her mouth dropped. “I can barely walk this morning, and you have the balls to…” She didn’t bother to finish her sentence, but splashed him with her bath water.

He rose, face dripping, with a large spot on his chest, making his shirt transparent. He swiped the water from his face and looked down at her. She glared at him, but when he started to undo the buttons on his shirt, she blanched.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“I’m already wet. I might as well join you.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Roth paused before he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He stared at the screen for a minute before he looked down at her.

“You’re okay?” he asked.

She bristled. “I said I was. I’ve been getting along just fine without—“

He leaned down and tugged on her hair, forcing her head back.

“No fighting,” he reminded her before he pressed a hard kiss to her closed lips and straightened. “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t bother!” she shouted at his retreating back once she recovered from the shock. “I’ve been giving myself baths for thirty years without your help. I don’t need you!”

He put his phone to his ear as he exited the bathroom and said, “Roth.”

“Roth,” she mimicked as she shut off the water and slid down the side of the tub, submerging herself up to her chin in the steaming water.

What the hell was he playing at? He was supposed to be tying up loose ends, so they could get back to New York, and she could resume her real life. Instead, he was prolonging their time in London to talk? It was so ridiculous that she snorted. Since when had Roth ever wanted to discuss anything? Never. Even in the beginning, he said little. She rattled on and on while he listened. She chalked up his social awkwardness to being an introverted mathematical genius. The thing was, he had no problem communicating when it came to business, which meant his silence was a choice and not a personality trait. He chose when to engage and, in her case, reverted to physical communication far too often. Her downfall.

She slipped beneath the surface of the water. His tub was large enough that she didn’t feel claustrophobic, though the unrelieved black was a little eerie. She let the warm water soothe her raw, swollen face and tried to relax. That was an impossible feat, with Roth threatening to return at any moment and reopen Pandora’s box. She wanted to wipe his revelations from her mind and move on as if nothing happened. Because nothing had. She didn’t trust what came out of his mouth—about him, their relationship, or her family. He had fooled her one too many times. Elaborating would only inflict more damage, and she wasn’t sure she could take another round. She was still fucking bleeding, mental shields in tatters, energy depleted. She needed time. Sleep, food, a dark room, and her weighted blanket. The last thing she wanted was her fake husband dredging up old shit that didn’t matter to further his secret agenda. All she wanted was to get through this in one piece. Their first month together was filled with enough trauma to last her the rest of the year.

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.