The Devil's Betrothed novel Chapter 147

Chapter 147: Opened Hair

Oriana woke up some time after midnight, feeling a bit too warm for comfort, and pushed the source away out of instinct thinking it was a thick, heavy blanket, only to find herself unable to raise her arms.

’Am I dreaming...?’ she wondered, slowly blinking away the drowsiness from her blurry eyes.

She was sleeping on her side with a pair of muscular arms wrapped around her, one acting as her pillow while the other was on her waist. Her head was nestled against a firm, warm chest moving up and down with rhythmic breathing, with her own arm surrounding the figure holding her. Her hand gently stroked that manly body.

Manly body...

A man...

’...I’m in a man’s arms?!’

Oriana almost jolted upright, frightened with the memories of last night rushing back to her mind.

’Don’t tell me—’

Her heart in her throat, she slightly tilted her head up to find the strong lines of a defined jawline, and further up a sharp, sculpted nose, before gazing at his closed eyes, to be more precise his long, dark lashes casting faint shadows under his eyes. His brows, typically furrowed, were calm and relaxed in his sleep, adding a touch of vulnerability to his arrogant character.

This handsome face, it indeed belonged to no other than the perverted brat she serves, Arlan Cromwell!

’Damn it, I am dead. I am so dead!’ she freaked out. ’I need to get away before this prince wakes up.’

She slowly moved the hand holding her waist away, trying her best to keep her movement careful to not wake him up.

Just as she thought escape was but a second away—

"Ouch! My hair!"

She could not sit up because she could not lift her head. Her hair was being pulled and it felt painful.

’Wait, what? Where is my headwrap?’

The brown fabric was not on her head, and her long luscious reddish blond locks were spread on the pillow like a waterfall. Part of her hair was stuck under the prince’s arm, some held within his clutch.

To say Oriana was horrified was an understatement.

It appeared that some time in the middle of the night, the scarf loosened around her head, causing her long hair to spill out in abundance. Fortunately, the prince was sleeping. Though it was rather common for noblemen to wear their hair long, there was a stark difference between a lady’s long hair and a man’s long hair. Oriana’s hair was a dead giveaway of her gender.

She worked to free the ends of her hair from his hold, slowly loosening up one finger at a time.

’Please don’t wake up, please don’t wake up...’ she continued to chant in her head.

Once she managed to free her hair, she slowly stood up from the bed and found the missing brown fabric lying on the floor. She picked it up and hurried towards the door.

’I need to leave before he wakes up. I can’t let him see me like this, or else...’