Tangled Temptations

Orlena returned to Peterborough.

She thought it would be a while before they could see each other again, but within

a week of her return, Brett showed up.

It was late in the evening when she received his call, "Come outside!"

Her heart raced. He was in Peterborough?

She clung onto her phone, hastily changed into a dress, and rushed downstairs. Her father, Parker, was still up, reading the newspaper. He looked up at his youngest daughter and casually remarked, "Going out this late?"

"Kitty invited me for a late-night snack," she quickly replied before dashing out the door.

Parker shook his head. Kids!noveldrama

A sleek black Lotus was parked outside the Horigan Mansion. Brett, in all black, was leaning against the car, smoking. He blended into the night. When he saw Orlena come running out, he gently opened his arms. She naturally fell into his embrace, burying her face in his shoulder, taking in his pleasant scent.

After a moment, she playfully protested, "You almost burned me!"

Brett chuckled and stubbed out his cigarette, leaning down to kiss her.

She was a bit anxious. They were standing right outside her house, after all. Brett was clearly considerate of this and quickly ushered her into the car after a brief kiss.

Orlena buckled her seatbelt slowly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, "Where are we going?"

She wanted to ask if they were heading to a hotel, but that would make her seem too forward, too eager.

Brett glanced at her. It had been a week since they'd last seen each other, and he had missed her terribly. He had to squeeze in time today to see her.

He took her hand, his voice a bit hoarse, "You'll know when we get there."

Orlena simply nodded, obediently.

The black Lotus sped along the road, and after about an hour, they pulled up in front of a luxurious apartment building on Sixth Avenue.

The place was infamous for its high prices and exceptional privacy. Only the business magnates and celebrities could afford to live here.

Brett escorted her upstairs. The apartment was about 120 square meters, lavishly decorated. An old vinyl record was playing, filling the room with soulful melodies.

Orlena removed her coat and looked around. Brett let her explore while he went into the kitchen to pour her some milk.

Once she finished looking around, she went into the kitchen and hugged him from behind, her voice shaky, "Brett, what is this place?"

She was scared. She didn't want to become his mistress. Even if he wasn't married, a woman kept in secrecy was still a mistress.

Brett softly replied, "Drink your milk."

She shook her head, stubbornly demanding an explanation.

Brett caressed her hand, his voice strained, "Orlena, I can't offer you a legitimate marriage right now. We can't even walk down the street together openly. We can't keep meeting in hotels. It's too demeaning. I know what you're thinking about this place, but I've never seen it that way. Consider this place home, and consider me your husband. Here, I'm yours and yours alone, Brett."

This was the best he could offer right now. A private space where he would spend as much time with her as he could.

Once Linda's situation stabilized, they could be open about their relationship. After his explanation, Orlena blushed.

Her feelings had completely changed. She was shy, but also thrilled. This was the home Brett had given her.

Brett, knowing he had appeased her, gently said, "I left two bunnies in the bedroom. Donny had to queue up to buy them. Do you like them?"

She depended on him so much, she sweetly replied, "I like you more!"

Brett pulled her into his lap, kissing her. After a while, she claimed to be hungry and wanted a late-night snack. He playfully slapped her bottom, "You eat so much, but you never gain weight."

But in truth, she was perfect. She had a slim waist but was curvaceous where it mattered. Brett loved that about her.

He was more than willing to cook her a late-night snack while she hovered around him. He found this simple domesticity far more enjoyable than going to the club or listening to Ms. Olea sing.

He remembered when Orlena asked him why he wasn't married. He realized it wasn't because he was too busy or because of his status. It was because, before her, he had never met someone he truly wanted to settle down with.

Brett had always thought that when he did settle down, his wife would be a capable, versatile woman. But fate had other plans. The woman he fell for was nothing like he had imagined. She was helpless and dependent.

All she knew was how to cling onto him and call out his name. She was petulant and would ignore him when she was upset. Yet he loved her, for no good reason!

Brett adored Orlena. He not only saw her as his wife but also as a child. Apart from occasionally teasing her, he was always considerate of her.

After their late-night snack, she noticed how tired he was and offered to do the dishes.

But Brett wouldn't let her. Being older than her, he felt it was his responsibility to make up for it in other areas. He spoiled her rotten He believed Orlena's life with him should be no less comfortable than her life with the Horigan family. If it was, he would consider himself a failure as a husband.

And so, in just one night, Orlena came to consider this place as her home. She couldn't stay out all night without an explanation though. In the end, it was Kitty who covered for her.

Late into the night, she called home before returning to the bedroom. Brett had already showered and was lounging in his bathrobe, seemingly asleep.

Orlena noticed the fatigue etched into his face and felt a pang of sympathy. She didn't want to wake him and was planning on quietly slipping into bed next to him, but the moment she lay down, he woke up. He gently pulled her into his arms.

Brett softly stroked her waist, "Did you finish your call?"

She hummed in response.

Brett pulled her closer, then leaned in, close enough that their breaths mingled, warm and inviting.

His voice was slightly raspy, "Can we go at it again?"

As he spoke, he reached into the bedside table and pulled out a small box,

placing it next to the pillow.

The next moment, she was pinned under him as he kissed her.

Orlena felt a pang of sympathy for him. She wasn't reluctant, but she could see

the exhaustion etched on his face. She didn't want him to exert himself further and wrapped her arms around his waist, fibbing, "I'm on my period!"

Brett paused. Then his nose lowered, gently rubbing against her. After a moment, he chuckled. There was no telltale scent.

A flush crept on Orlena's face as she tugged at his hair, whispering, "Let's just cuddle and talk. We don't always have to do... that."

Brett didn't insist.

When he returned to embrace her, he feigned a complaint, "Don't pull at my hair anymore. If I go bald, I won't be as handsome!"

In the end, he was always concerned about his age.

Orlena smiled softly, snuggling into his waist and asking softly, "How long can you

stay?"

Brett gently stroked her head, "I have to leave tomorrow afternoon."

A full day of meetings awaited him tomorrow. They only had this one night to

cherish, so he treasured it immensely.

She was somewhat disappointed, but she was considerate of him. She could feel Brett's affection for her. He had given her everything he could. She knew that every spare moment he had, he spent it on her.

As she was drifting off to sleep, she buried her face in his neck.

Brett, he was already acting like a husband...

Before dawn, Brett woke up. He woke her and they made love twice. Afterward, Orlena fell asleep, exhausted. Brett, however, was full of energy. He took a shower, prepared breakfast, and even had lunch ready for her. All she needed to do was heat it up.

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After everything was taken care of, he sat by the bed. She was still sleeping.

Brett pinched her cheek, his voice low and gentle, "I'll have dinner with you tonight, then head back to Brockville. Don't go back yet."

She mumbled something in her half-asleep state. Brett gave her a tender kiss

before leaving.

Once he got in the car, Donny teased him, "You're still so happy after cooking and doing laundry for that young lady?"

Brett patted his immaculate trousers, pretending not to care, "Just pacifying a

young girl's tantrum. Nothing to be happy about."

Donny just laughed.

He was genuinely happy for Mr. Brett. A man in his 40s, finally found a young lady

he liked. How could it not be a reason to rejoice?

Donny made a fuss about sharing in the good luck. Brett thought for a moment,

then generously gave him a house in Brockville. A place many people wouldn't dare to dream of.

As for the driver, Brett arranged a job for his son.

These grand gestures showed his protection towards Orlena. Once the people close to him kept their mouths shut, she'd be safe.