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Breaking Mr. Cold (Giselle and Donovan) novel Chapter 339

At last, Giselle could say those three words openly, without hesitation. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

Her kiss was like a delicacy offered straight to his mouth. Donovan accepted it eagerly, without the faintest resistance, savoring it in that pocket of unhurried time. His hand slid to the back of her head, deepening the kiss until it grew more fervent.

When they finally parted, he murmured lightly, "Let's go home."

"Which home?" she teased.

He shot her a sidelong glance. "What do you think? From now on, remember—you're a married woman. Wherever I live, that's your home too."

"Fair enough." She nodded in agreement. "After all, once you marry, you follow your husband's lead—no matter what comes with it."

20 minutes later, the car pulled up to Donovan's private hillside villa.

Benjamin hurried over to open the car door respectfully and ushered them into the living room.

Donovan made it official with Benjamin.

"Ms. Holt is now my wife. From today forward, this is her home, and she has the final say in all household matters. As for meals, they'll be prepared according to her tastes."

Benjamin stiffened in surprise. Until now, he had always understood Anne to be his bride-to-be. But clearly, things had changed—and quickly.

"Yes, Mr. Kane. Understood." Benjamin offered no argument.

"You should change your sheets," Giselle said bluntly. "Sleeping on this kind of bed would kill my mood."

"Fine. We'll swap everything for pink." Donovan leaned lazily against the wall, arms crossed.

It was the kind of tone only a man who had seen the world could manage—yet at heart, his taste was as simple as any straight-laced executive. To him, pink was a woman's natural preference.

"Please." Giselle rolled her eyes. "Pink's for middle-aged women. I'm not there yet."

She moved toward his walk-in closet, no doubt ready to pick it apart with more commentary. But Donovan had grown impatient. He stepped in close, wrapping his arms around her from behind, his hand slipping under her collar.

"It's our wedding day," he murmured against her ear. "Don't you think it's time now we did something proper?"

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