Shattered Then Healed By His Love (by Haley Blanton) novel Chapter 68

Chapter 68 Opening Day

Marcus caught her silence and the curve of his lips deepened. “Didn’t expect it–Ms. Foster knows how to play.”

His words jolted her out of her thoughts. “No! I was only speaking casually!” she blurted, almost defensively.

“If you hold such resentment toward my nephew,” Marcus drawled, “why not use a man to get back at him? Watching him parade around with Victoria all the time–doesn’t that sting?”

“I stopped loving him long ago. What’s there to sting?” Natalie sneered. “And I don’t have the time or the inclination to use another man just to provoke him.”

Marcus’s tone was deceptively light. “I thought that young practitioner looked quite suitable.”

“Mr. Collins, you’ve misunderstood. He’ll be my colleague starting tomorrow, nothing more. I’ve never thought of him that way.”

“Well, if not him, you can always use me.”

Her eyes flew to his, stunned.

He didn’t look away.

“Mr. Collins, you…” Her voice faltered.

“Why so tense?” His voice was calm, deliberate. “It would only be for show.”

Natalie steadied herself, lips tightening. “Perhaps with anyone else, but with you—that’s hardly fitting.”

For the first time, his expression shadowed, though he said nothing more.

The air between them grew heavy, so she quickly changed the subject. “Are you thirsty? I’ll get you some water.”

“No need,” he said evenly. “I only came to look around. I’ll be leaving now.”

She moved to walk him out, but he stopped suddenly. She bumped into his back, the warmth of his body seeping even through the fabric of his suit.

Marcus turned, steadying her arm with one hand. Their eyes met, the air thick with unspoken

tension.

1/3

Once she regained her balance, he released her. “The clinic opens the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she answered quickly.

“I’ll send flower baskets then. Consider it an early wish for success.”

“Thank you, Mr. Collins.”

Her smile lingered in his eyes for a long moment before he turned away. Only once he stepped into his Maybach did she finally look elsewhere.

Same Collins bloodline—but Marcus and Jackson couldn’t be more different.

Marcus: outwardly cold, yet his actions warm like sunlight in winter.

Jackson: cold in appearance, and cold through to the bone.

The next day, Natalie spent every hour in the clinic, arranging herbs into their cabinets, tying up the last details. Everything would be ready.

Opening morning.

Atlas arrived early, waiting at the door.

Natalie’s eyes went straight to the neat row of flower baskets outside–twelve of them, six on each side, lining the entrance in perfect symmetry.

“Good morning, Natalie-”

“Morning, Atlas.” Her gaze lingered on the flowers. “Who sent these so early?”

“I saw the delivery men when I arrived. They said they were from the landlord.”

She stepped closer and read the cards.

Grand Opening, Wishing You Success.

From Ruben.

The name tickled her memory–the same one listed on her lease.

But she recalled Marcus’s words the other day, and her lips curved faintly.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify