The Billionaire Boss's Accidental Bride

Loretta Williams stirred awake slowly, her mind foggy and disoriented.

She blinked against the unfamiliar ceiling above her, which was neither cracked nor covered with the familiar stains of home.

The bed she lay in was far too plush, the sheets smooth and luxurious-nothing like the thin, well-worn ones she was used to.

Her limbs ached, especially between her legs, and the pain in her body told a story she couldn't deny.

When she raised her arm, bruises marred her wrist-faint purplish-green smudges that screamed of struggle. She froze, panic swelling in her chest.

This wasn't a dream, was it?

Suppressing a gasp, she peeled back the blanket and, upon seeing her bare form beneath it, almost screamed aloud.

Her clothes were scattered messily around the room. She scrambled to gather them, tugging each piece on with trembling hands.

The only thing she wanted was to get out, as far and as fast as possible.

Just as she was about to bolt, a strong hand clamped around the back of her neck.

Scared, she screamed.

"Let me go!" she shrieked, thrashing wildly. "Let go!"

The man behind her effortlessly hauled her back, tossing her onto the bed like she weighed nothing.

Loretta landed hard, her heart pounding from fear and confusion. But when she looked up and truly saw him, she was momentarily struck silent.

He was devastatingly handsome-his features carved with precision, cold yet mesmerizing.

His skin was almost ethereal, pale like porcelain, and flawless. Even Loretta, who had never considered herself the swooning type, couldn't tear her gaze away.

Was this the man who had kept her pinned down through the night, whose touch had seared itself into her memory?

"Who sent you?" he asked, his tone icy and sharp.

"You drugged me, didn't you? You think you can waltz in, do something like this, and then sneak away?"

He studied her face, taking in the delicate features and flushed cheeks. Her frightened eyes were large and shimmering, and her lips trembled despite the glare she threw at him.

Mark Robin narrowed his eyes as realization dawned.

This woman was a low-tier actress, barely scraping by in the ruthless world of entertainment.

She had likely discovered that Tom Robin, the well-known celebrity and his younger brother, was staying at the hotel. Trying to boost her status through scandal, she must have spiked his drink.

Except, she made a mistake.

Mark wasn't Tom.

She'd drugged the wrong man.

With fury in his eyes, Mark yanked her arm. She lost her balance and hit the floor with a thud, landing awkwardly and gasping in pain.

"You lunatic!" she spat.

"If I had drugged you on purpose, why would I still be here? I must be the unluckiest woman alive right now. This wasn't meant for you! I was after someone else-someone famous!

Who do you think you are, huh? You think you're worth a sedative? Give me back my money for that damn drug!"

Mark's jaw clenched.

His expression turned stormy as her defiance registered. She was bold, throwing accusations and insults at him, even half-dressed and bruised.

Drugged the wrong man?

Mark's gaze dropped to the exposed skin on her shoulder.

The deep violet marks on her pale flesh were impossible to ignore.

Images of the previous night flashed through his mind-the hazy moments, the way his body had burned uncontrollably, how he'd lost all rational thought.

Now, seeing her like this, that heat returned-fierce and immediate.

He turned away sharply, biting down his anger and the desire building again. This damn woman. She'd drugged him with something strong-too strong.

Before he could react, Loretta leaped up, shoved him with all her might, and bolted.

"Don't look at me!" she shouted behind her. "Check yourself in the mirror, freak!"

"You-!" Mark tried to grab her but stopped short, wincing as another wave of heat surged through his lower abdomen. His body betrayed him, hard and urgent once more.

"Damn it," he growled under his breath, fists clenched in fury.

From outside the room, a knock followed by a voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

"Sir?"

Jake Mac, his assistant, stepped in hesitantly. "Apologies for the intrusion... but Master Tom asked if the suite met your standards. You passed out so quickly last night, we didn't want to disturb you. Also... about that woman who just ran out..."

"Shut up!" Mark's voice was cold and final.

Jake fell silent, eyes wide in disbelief at the scene he'd just witnessed.

In the bathroom, Mark scrubbed himself vigorously, desperate to erase the sensation, the memory, and the woman's scent. When he looked up into the mirror, the fury on his face was uncontainable.

"Damn her," he muttered, eyes dark with emotion.

A soft knock broke the tense air again. "Sir... Madam is here," Jake said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mark's movements froze. Of all the days, his mother had to show up now.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, a tall, elegant woman stood by the door, her eyes sweeping over the rumpled bed and the discarded clothes strewn across the floor.

Her manicured brow rose, and a knowing smile formed on her lips.

Mark grabbed his robe and threw it over his shoulders, glaring at her. "Mother, I don't have time for this."

Kathy Tella was beaming. "No need to explain," she said, her voice brimming with satisfaction. "I can see what happened. You slept with someone."

Mark's expression darkened as he brushed past her. "It's none of your business."

"Not my business? Mark, of course it is! You need to take responsibility for that lady."

He stopped in his tracks, surprised at his mother's statement.

"I'm not marrying her," he said firmly. "I don't even know who she is."

"Her name is Loretta Williams," Kathy replied calmly. "She's 22. She's the illegitimate daughter of the Smith Group's chairman. She has two older sisters and a younger brother.

Her mother passed away early in her childhood, and her father barely acknowledges her. She lives at the Smith estate but receives no support. She's practically invisible in that household."

Mark turned slowly, his eyes sharp.

"How do you even know all that?"

"I did my homework," Kathy said with a shrug. "This is your chance, Mark. Don't blow it."

He scoffed. "You still think this is fate? That she's 'the one' just because we slept together by accident?"

"You were with Alice Jacob for years and couldn't even touch her," Kathy said, her voice cutting.

"Don't you see? You've never been able to be with a woman. Not like this. You have a condition, Mark. We've been preparing for artificial insemination because you couldn't... but you did last night. That has to mean something!"

"Mother, stop," he warned, his jaw tight.

"I won't!" she snapped.

"You're finally able to touch someone-and it just happens to be the woman you accidentally slept with? This isn't coincidence. This is destiny!"