Breaking Mr. Cold (Giselle and Donovan) novel Chapter 1

"Is your period over?"

"Yeah."

"Meet me at 7:00 pm."

Giselle Holt stared at the man's cold WhatsApp message, her lips curling into a smirk. Her reply was just one word.

"Fine."

She was out riding the mountain roads with a few other bikers. When she saw it was past 6:00 pm, she slammed her boot down and gunned the throttle.

Her Harley—worth hundreds of thousands—roared as she tore through the winding roads, finally skidding to a stop in front of a villa nestled between the mountains and the river.

Giselle pulled off her helmet and gloves, then stepped into the living room. The grand hall was elegant and lavish, yet still—as if frozen in time and thick with secrets.

The man lounged on the couch, smoking silently, as if he'd been expecting her all along. His face, framed by the swirling smoke, was sharply chiseled—so flawlessly refined it seemed almost unreal.

Giselle had no patience for foreplay. As she strode toward him, she began stripping off her clothes. First came the jacket, then her hair spilled free.

She transformed from a leather-clad biker into something straight out of a fantasy. She walked up to the man, swung one leg over him, and settled into his lap.

With a careless flick, she plucked the half-smoked cigarette from his hand. She took a slow drag, let out a lazy puff of smoke, then tucked it back between his lips.

"Should I shower first?" Giselle asked, sliding her arms around his neck, her smoldering gaze locked on his.

"No need."

He caught her chin with one finger, his thumb grazing her full lips before claiming her mouth in a possessive kiss. She matched his hunger perfectly. His hands burned like fire against her skin.

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