Secret Wife
To Have & To Hold, Book 3
Two years ago, Hazel Davis made a reckless decision on a Vegas flight that changed everything. One night with Isaac Wesson gave her memories she couldn't shake and a marriage certificate she couldn't explain. When they went their separate ways the next morning, she thought she'd buried that mistake forever.
But fate has other plans.
Forced to return home to care for her ailing father, Hazel discovers Isaac never stopped wanting her. He's built an empire, bought a house, and he's determined to claim the wife he's never truly had. Resisting him is torture. Being with him is dangerous. Their families have hated each other for decades, and one revelation could destroy everything she's worked to rebuild.
As Isaac breaks down her walls and promises her a future she's always wanted, Hazel uncovers a truth that changes the rules of their game entirely. Suddenly, the only way to protect the people she loves is to keep Isaac in the shadows. But love rarely stays hidden, and secrets have a way of detonating when you least expect them.
“You’re just like your father,” Deidre pronounced in disgust.
Hazel steadied her breath, knowing she had a choice. She could make it a two-fer and show Deidre the sharp end of her claws, or she could keep calm and be the bigger woman.
For the sake of peace, she said quietly, “Mrs. Wesson, I know we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, and I’d like to apologize for those things I said to you back at the store. I was out of line.”
She waited for a response, but in vain. Deidre looked at everything else but her.
Thankfully, Isaac stepped up. “Mom, Amy—listen carefully. The Wesson and Davis families have been at odds for a long time. We all know why. But Hazel and I are not responsible for the actions of Simone and Thomas. More importantly, we’re married and in love.”
He focused more on his mom than his sister, because it was already clear that his sister was on board. “Every heartbeat in my chest belongs to Hazel. When I wake up in the morning, it's her name on my lips. When I dream of little hands reaching up to me, they have her eyes. This house…these walls will echo with our children's laughter, with midnight feedings and first steps. I see us dancing within these walls, her belly swollen with our future. Every Christmas morning, every scraped knee, every triumph—it's her. Only her. And if you force me to choose Mom, you'll be the one watching our life through windows, missing every precious moment. Because I'm not just choosing Hazel for today. I'm choosing her for every sunrise, every tear, every gray hair until my last breath.”
Hazel's heart thundered in her chest, tears pricking at her eyes as his words swept over her. Each promise felt like a warm hug, each declaration another brick in the foundation of their future. Her fingers tightened around his, and she fought the urge to turn and bury her face in his shoulder.
