Irresistible Temptation: From The Meek Wife To The Daring Star

"Sorry, the number you're trying to reach is unavailable right now..."

The robotic voice echoed again, but Yvonne Ellis didn't hang up right away. She sat at the long dining table with her phone pressed to her ear, calling Julian Powell, her husband, over and over, hoping he would answer just once.

Looking at the message she sent this morning-"It's our third wedding anniversary. Can you come home early?"-she sighed bitterly.

Julian had left her words unread, as if the date slipped from his mind.

But for Yvonne, it wasn't a shock. His heart had belonged to another woman for years, so how could he spare a thought for their marriage?

The truth was, Julian had only agreed to marry her to keep his grandfather, Rodger Powell, from worrying about him.

In the three years since, he had built walls around himself, refusing to talk to her and never even having sex with her.

The clock struck twelve, and the candlelit dinner she had worked on for hours became a cruel joke.

She let out a shaky laugh, and tears ran freely down her cheeks. Lifting her glass, she emptied the wine in one swallow.

Alcohol was never her strength, and before long, the edges of her grief blurred into a light-headed daze.

She stumbled into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, her unfocused gaze fixed on the chandelier's bright glare.

Just as sleep threatened to pull her under, a warm touch brushed her collarbone, and she startled awake. Blinking rapidly, she found Julian seated at the edge of the bed.

His suit jacket was gone, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms. A gleaming watch caught the light as his wrist shifted. His long lashes lowered slightly, hiding the depth of his eyes. His expression was unreadable, his handsome features calm and distant.

Yvonne froze in shock for a brief moment before quickly sitting up. A rush of uncontrollable joy swept through her, and her voice quivered with excitement as she spoke. "You're finally home. Has it been a hectic day for you? Are you hungry? I can go make something for you right now..."

Yvonne lurched out of bed in a panic, terrified he might walk away again. But her foot snagged the carpet, sending her straight into Julian's solid chest. The sharp bite of alcohol mixed with his familiar cologne wrapped around her like a warning.

The realization struck her all at once. He had been drinking heavily. That was the only reason he would be here, sitting on her bed when he normally kept his distance.

Even with his calm exterior, Yvonne knew better. His stiffness gave him away. Julian despised being touched by her, and his silence carried a weight she couldn't name.

She opened her mouth to speak, to apologize for the clumsy fall, but her eyes caught something that silenced her. A glaring lipstick stain bloomed against his collar. Her chest tightened, and a sharp ache tore through her.

"What's wrong?" His voice was low, almost gentle.

Snapping back, she pulled her hands away from his shoulders as if burned. "Sorry, I didn't mean to," she whispered, her apology tumbling out.

Before she could move farther, his palm pressed firmly against the back of her neck, holding her in place. His head dipped suddenly, and his lips crushed against hers.

Her eyes flew wide. The kiss was fierce and consuming, making her forget how to breathe.

Instinct told her to resist, and she pushed at his chest. However, his hold only grew stronger.

"I want you," he mumbled, the words rough and unsteady against her lips.

His other hand slipped beneath the hem of her satin nightdress, tracing the curve of her thigh with deliberate intent, climbing higher with each slow movement.

Heat rippled through her body, rising from her waist and surging up her spine until it clouded her thoughts. Rationality dissolved, leaving her lost in the pull of his touch.

For the first time in years, the hollow place inside her felt whole. And just before desire consumed her completely, one last clear thought flickered. Julian had to be heavily drunk-there was no other reason for this.

...

Sunlight slipped past the curtains when Yvonne finally opened her eyes, and the quiet rush of water from the bathroom told her Julian was awake before her.

A dull ache spread through her body as she pushed herself upright, the blanket sliding down and baring the faint kiss marks along her collarbone-marks that felt surreal, considering how distant he had always been.

Her gaze drifted toward the closed bathroom door, her chest stirring with a confusing mix of disbelief and fragile hope.

He had finally chosen to have sex with her, and it left her wondering if this meant he was ready to open up to her, to put effort into understanding her and building their marriage.

That thought gave her strength to rise from the bed. She bent down to gather his discarded suit jacket, and from its pocket tumbled a bracelet that sparkled in the morning light.

The piece was breathtaking. A sapphire cut into the shape of a delicate flower gleamed at its center, ringed by sharp silver facets that caught the light like shards of ice.

As Yvonne traced its design with her fingers, the bathroom door opened. Julian stepped out, steam curling around him, a towel knotted low at his hips. His tall frame revealed sculpted lines, from the sharp cut of his abs to the deep V that led downward, every inch of him radiating effortless strength.

His eyes flicked toward the bracelet in her hand. "It suits you," he said, his tone light, almost careless.

Her lips parted in surprise. "Are you giving this to me?"

Julian stopped abruptly on his track, studied her hopeful expression, then gave a brief nod. "Yes." Without another word, he crossed into the dressing room.

The coldness in his voice hit like a splash of icy water, making last night's closeness feel surreal, like it was merely a dream.

Yvonne watched his retreating back, a flicker of disappointment passing through her before she quickly steadied herself. She found comfort in knowing that their relationship was beginning to shift, and she held onto the belief that Julian would one day recognize her true value.

A small smile bloomed across her face as she admired the jewel in her palm. Maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to change.

From that day onward, she noticed the smallest shifts between them-quiet, subtle steps that hinted their marriage was no longer standing still. Dinner at the villa became less of a rarity, with Julian showing up at least twice a week now.

The change in routine didn't go unnoticed. At a lavish afternoon tea, the wives of businessmen eyed Yvonne's brighter mood, their voices buzzing like bees.

One leaned forward with a smirk and asked, "Yvonne, something's different about you lately. You look radiant. What's the good news?"

Yvonne's lips curved in a modest smile, ready to share her newfound happiness, when a sudden wave of nausea surged. She bent forward, gagging, her reaction silencing the chatter around the table.

The startled looks that followed all said the same thing-the symptom wasn't foreign to these married women; was she pregnant?

The thought hit Yvonne with force. She remembered her missed cycle, her pulse quickening as disbelief clouded her mind.

She excused herself quickly, unable to sit there under the weight of their stares, and rushed straight to the hospital. Hours later, a crisp white envelope held her answer.

"Eight weeks along. Congratulations," the doctor announced warmly. "You're going to be a mother."

The words barely sank in. Yvonne pressed her hand against her flat stomach, her eyes stinging with tears she hadn't expected.

Pregnancy had never crossed her mind, yet here it was staring her in the face.

The news left her reeling, and the first thought that followed was Julian. He would never celebrate this. His cutting words from the past echoed back-having a child with her was something humiliating.

A knot formed in her stomach. If he discovered the truth, he might demand she end it.

The thrill of the moment evaporated, leaving only dread. With a heavy sigh, she thanked the doctor politely and stepped out, her heart weighed down with uncertainty.

Still, she couldn't hide it forever. Whether he liked it or not, the child belonged to both of them, and Julian would eventually know.

Her hand shook as she scrolled through her contacts, searching for Julian's name. But a voice from a nearby exam room made her stop cold.

Through the doorway, she spotted Julian inside, steadying a striking woman onto a chair. The doctor's congratulatory words rang out.

"Mr. Powell, you're going to be a father. Your wife is eight weeks pregnant..."

The sight of her husband accompanying another woman for a prenatal check-up hit Yvonne like a bomb going off inside her skull, leaving her dizzy and unsteady on her feet. And the shock rattled her, making her accidentally hit the dial button.

A few seconds later, Julian's voice drifted out from the exam room. "Hello?"

Yvonne kept her gaze locked on him through the half-open door, her throat tightening until her words shook hesitantly. "Where are you right now?"

Her mind spun in chaos. The doctor called that woman Julian's wife. Then what did that make her? Eight weeks ago lined up with the night he had sex with her for the first time. So, her husband had slept with another woman during the same week?

The weight of that thought nearly tore her apart. Tears blurred her vision as she squinted at the woman's face, and recognition struck like a blade.

Rita Adams. The name screamed inside her. The very woman who had lived in Julian's heart for years.

Yvonne remembered stumbling across Rita's picture in his study once, tucked away but cherished.

Stories about them had floated around too-how they had met overseas, how their shared passions had made them inseparable, how everyone had thought they were destined to be together. If not for her marriage to Julian, they would have been the couple people envied.

Only now did Yvonne grasp the truth. Rita had returned. And Julian had taken Rita back into his life.

It dawned on her with a cruel clarity-the wife he wanted had never been her. Her eyes filled until the tears slipped free, and the realization cut deep.

Had he already been with Rita before he had slept with her? The lipstick stain on his collar came rushing back to her memory. She finally understood. That trace must have belonged to Rita.

A heavy knot twisted in Yvonne's stomach, but hope, fragile and foolish, kept her eyes fixed on Julian's back, desperate for him to come clean.

Inside the room, his gaze flickered toward Rita before he answered, his tone smooth and detached, "I'm in a meeting at the office. Why are you calling?"

The lie cut through her like ice. For a moment her thoughts scattered, leaving only the burn of betrayal and rage. A bitter smile tugged at her lips, mocking herself for ever expecting honesty.

There was no point in pressing further. Any question would only humiliate her more.

She ended the call without a word. Her body gave out as she slid down the cold wall, her hand clamping over her mouth to stifle the sobs that broke free.

A nurse passing by stopped, concern etched on her face. "Are you all right?"

Meanwhile, something unsettled Julian. He turned his head slightly, as though sensing eyes on him, but the hallway beyond was empty. A faint frown creased his face.

Yvonne had never once defied him. For years she had bent quietly to his will, yet this time she had hung up before he even could. The abruptness gnawed at him.

An instinct urged him to leave and search for her. He stood up abruptly.

"Julian, who was it?" Rita's voice quivered as she tugged on his sleeve, her delicate face tilted up in practiced vulnerability.

The moment broke, and Julian steadied himself. "Just work," he said evenly.

He eased his sleeve from her grasp, turned back to the doctor, and continued in that same calm voice, asking about the dos and don'ts during a pregnancy.

After Julian turned his focus back to the doctor, Rita's gentle mask slipped. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she pulled out her phone beneath the table. Fingers moving quickly, she sent a message, saying, "I just spotted Yvonne at Kumvine Hospital. Check why she's seeing an OB-GYN."

Later, at the hospital entrance, Julian walked Rita to the car, his voice calm and detached. "Go home and get some rest."

Her hand froze on the door handle, and she turned back with a wounded look. "You're not coming with me? I don't want to be alone tonight... I'm scared."

His reply was immediate, smooth, and distant. "I've got things at the office that need attention."

Rita's fingers curled tightly against her palm, but within seconds she replaced the frustration with a sweet, understanding smile. "All right. I'll wait for you at home."

Julian gave a short nod, watched the car roll away, and then headed for his own vehicle.

On the drive back, he dialed Yvonne's number again and again. Each time, the call rang unanswered until finally her phone switched off.

By the time he sat at his desk, the weight in his chest had settled into something cold and heavy. His phone rested in his hand, his face shadowed by a stormy scowl.

Stacks of documents sat waiting, but the ink on the pages might as well have been invisible. His mind refused to focus.

The silence broke with Andrew Pearson, Julian's friend, barging into the office, grinning ear to ear. "Julian, congratulations! You're going to be a father!"

Julian's eyes darkened further, his jaw tightening. Clearly Andrew must have caught wind of his accompanying Rita for a prenatal visit and jumped to conclusions. His voice came out sharp. "Stop spouting nonsense-"

But Andrew cut him off, too excited to notice the warning edge. "You really don't know yet? Yvonne was sick at a tea party today, looked just like morning sickness. Everyone's saying she's pregnant!"

Yvonne dragged herself through the front door, her steps heavy as if every ounce of strength had been drained from her.

Kicking off her shoes, she stood still for a moment, her eyes roaming the dark, empty house. The corners of her lips curved into a hollow smile, one that carried no warmth.

Only now did she truly see how foolish she had been. This house had always been lifeless, just like Julian's heart. She had spent years guarding a place that was actually cold, silent, and meaningless, becoming little more than an object of pity.

It didn't surprise her that he wasn't home. He had spent the day at Rita's side, celebrating her pregnancy. Most likely, he was still with her now, wrapped in tender moments that belonged only to them, imagining the family they would build together.

Every day before today, Yvonne would have already cooked a full dinner, set the table, and left the lights on, waiting for him with foolish hope.

But tonight, she didn't bother. She didn't even turn on the lights as she walked barefoot into the hollow living room, her body moving on autopilot.

When she reached the sofa, an unexpected hand shot out of the shadows, pulling her against a firm chest.

Her startled cry filled the room just as a lamp flickered on, bathing Julian's face in soft, golden light. His features looked carved from stone, flawless and distant.

Pressing a finger to her lips, he whispered, "It's me."

She froze, stunned by the sudden closeness. No matter how many times she told herself to stop caring, her heart still betrayed her, fluttering at the sight of him.

Julian let her go as quickly as he had pulled her in. The fleeting warmth vanished, leaving behind the same indifference as his voice turned cold, almost reproachful. "Where have you been all day? I tried calling you over and over, but you never answered."

Reality slammed back into her chest. The question was almost laughable. Shouldn't it be her demanding to know where he had spent his day?

She wanted to scream the truth at him, but the words never left her mouth. Instead, she curved her lips into a faint, steady smile and replied, "Yeah."

Yeah? What was that supposed to mean? He was about to press further, but then he caught her eyes.

Something in her calm indifference made his irritation vanish. His words came out gentler, uncertain. "Are you all right? You look pale... are you sick?"

Yvonne dropped her gaze to the floor, realizing that the concern she once craved from him no longer carried the same weight.

Exhaustion pressed down on her, leaving no room to play the forgiving wife. Her voice was faint, almost detached. "I'm worn out. I need to rest."

She turned toward the stairs, but before she could take more than two steps, Julian's arm wrapped around her and pulled her back sharply against him.

Her body jolted from the force, and instinctively her hands flew to shield her stomach. Anger flared hot in her chest. "What do you think you're doing?" she snapped.

Julian's eyes bore into her, his brow furrowing. "You're pregnant, aren't you?"

Her breath caught. He knew? But how?

A wild question flickered through her mind-if he had discovered her pregnancy, then would he choose her or would he still cling to Rita?

"I..." The admission trembled on her lips, but the sudden shrill ring of his phone sliced through the moment.

Julian picked up his phone and answered the call. A soft, tearful voice came through the receiver, trembling with pain. "Jules, I slipped in the bathroom, and my stomach hurts so badly. Can you come over? The baby..."

Julian's face hardened instantly, urgency sharpening his tone. "Don't move. I'm on my way right now."

The call ended, and without hesitation he shoved Yvonne aside, striding toward the door with long, determined steps.

Her vision blurred as tears welled, the sting cutting deep. One plea from Rita, and he could abandon her without a backward glance.

Bitterness unlike anything she had felt before clawed up her throat. For once, she wanted to force the truth out of him, to know where his loyalty lay-was it ever with her, or had it always been with Rita?

She rushed forward, fingers clutching his sleeve desperately. Her lips parted, but before she could beg him to stay, his voice snapped like a whip. "Whatever it is, save it until I get back!"

Her restraint shattered. Her voice shook violently as she cried out, "Where are you going? Who was that woman? You're my husband, Julian. How can you..."

The words she wanted to hurl at him caught in her throat. In that instant, it struck her-maybe she had been wrong all along.

Two months of routine dinners and fleeting gestures had tricked her into believing in something that was never real. She had let herself dream of a marriage that only existed in her imagination, forgetting that Julian had never once offered his heart.

Their marriage had always been a transaction, nothing more than a carefully staged illusion.

Julian's hand moved with a cold precision as he pried her fingers away from his sleeve. His eyes, sharp and merciless, pinned her down like a blade. "Yvonne, stop deceiving yourself. I told you from the start-I don't love you. Whatever I do is none of your concern."

Her heart hollowed at the cruelty in his tone. Her chest tightened painfully at his bluntness. She loosened her hold, a broken sob slipping past her lips as she whispered, "I'm sorry... I went too far..."

Julian lingered only long enough to cast her a silent, cutting look. Without another word, he turned and walked out, the door slamming behind him with finality.

The echo of that sound told her everything-whatever fragile tie had existed between them had just snapped.

Julian's chilling stare refused to leave her thoughts, replaying like a cruel reminder she couldn't escape.

Her stomach twisted, and she stumbled toward the bathroom, hand pressed over her mouth until she collapsed in front of the toilet.

Nothing but water spilled out-she had eaten almost nothing all day, yet her body convulsed as though punishing her further.

The spasms wracked her frame, and tears blurred her vision. With trembling fingers, she rested her palm against her flat belly, a broken laugh escaping through the pain. "Little one, you couldn't have chosen a worse moment to arrive. I'm the only person in this world who wants you."