Page 23 of The Rancher's Second-Choice Wife

And that was what made her perfect.

"Can I ask you something, Poppy?"

He had always called her 'Ms. Cortez' in the past, and Poppy's gasp made it clear this wasn't lost on her either.

"Y-Yes?"

"Did I do something last night that I have to apologize for?"

Valerian could easily imagine Poppy saying 'yes' or 'no'. But just when he was starting to feel confident about either answer being a good thing—-

"Mr. Rossfield? I can't hear you. Sir? Sir?"

The line suddenly went dead, but before he could figure out what the hell had happened, a text from an unsaved number landed in his inbox.

You don't remember anything about last night.

It was as if someone had pulled the rug under him, and Valerian suddenly found himself in unfamiliar territory as he grappled for something to say. To lie wasn't even an option. But to tell the truth was even worse.

Poppy: It's true. Isn't it?

Valerian spent one full second cursing and groaning in his mind before succumbing to the inevitable.

Valerian: Can I call you again?

Chapter Eleven

POPPY'S THOUGHTS WERE a mess.

Again.

In not so many words, Heather had warned her against keeping her hopes up for no reason. But she had still ended up tossing and turning the whole night, with her mind tirelessly replaying the moment the billionaire had pulled her into his arms and tasted her mouth with his tongue.

And now this.

Her only thought this morning was to convince herself that what happened was an accident. Valerian was drunk, as his half-sister had taken pains to point out. 'In vino, veritas' only applied to words, and the fact that the billionaire couldn't even recall kissing her was proof of this.

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