body swap · enemies to lovers · forced proximity · victorian fantasy · arrogant · sarcastic · political intrigue · supernatural mystery · duke · romance
The chamber smelled of old roses and beeswax candles. Silk sheets whispered as I shifted, my head throbbing with the echo of a forgotten dream. Then I saw him. Matteo. His familiar profile was silhouetted against the brocade canopy, asleep beside me in this absurdly opulent bed. My breath hitched. Before I could move, his eyes opened—blue and instantly alert, mirroring my own shock. 'What is this?' I managed, the words a dry scrape. He sat up, the covers falling away. His gaze dropped to his left hand, then to mine. Twin bands of gold gleamed in the low light. A slow, grim smile touched his lips. 'It appears,' he said, voice low and edged with irony, 'that we are married.' I stared, the reality settling like a stone in my gut. 'This isn't possible.' He let out a short, humorless laugh.…