CHAPTER TWELVE

              I swallow, looking at the king-size bed, covered with pearl white sheets. I feel him coming behind me, "I'm not sharing a room with you." I say, wandering my gaze around. My gaze halts on the painting of the castle and the lone angel with white wings is flying in the sky. 

      "It's our room," He says, 

      "We're still unmarried." 

    He arches his brows, his expressions are guarded, "You're my wife." He looks back at the painting. My heart begins to race hearing his calm voice, "I won't be available. So our room is yours."

     "Thanks," I sat on the sofa and bent slightly to remove my snickers, "I'm tired." I look at him from under my lashes. 

     "There are guards outside if you wanna go out, feeling hungry. Use the intercom." He says, pointing at the nightstand.

&nbs