Chapter 6 #3
“Do it, Hyun-woo!” Victoria urged, practically vibrating with anticipation.
“Kiss her! You know you want to—look at how she’s looking at you!
” The camera panned across the heroine’s face, catching the way her lips parted slightly, the flutter of her eyelashes, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Hyun-woo’s dark eyes dropped to her mouth, his own jaw clenching with barely restrained desire as he slowly began to lower his head?—
A throat cleared behind her.
Victoria whipped around so fast the remote control flew from her suddenly nerveless fingers, and she had to juggle it twice before managing to hit pause.
The screen froze on the exact moment of maximum tension—Hyun-woo’s face mere inches from the heroine’s, his hand still braced against the wall, her eyes half-closed in anticipation of the kiss that was milliseconds away.
Victoria’s—or whoever this warm, engaging version of his wife was—blush deepened beautifully.
She reshuffled herself on the sofa, tucking her legs under her in a posture that was more schoolgirl than socialite.
She stared up at Jason with wide, startled eyes, looking utterly lost and completely unlike the woman who’d once sent back a bottle of Chateau Lafite because it hadn’t been “properly aired” for exactly forty-seven minutes.
“You’re back from work,” she said, then glanced at the ornate clock on the wall.
“Oh, it’s so late! Did you have dinner yet—” She stopped abruptly, her mouth snapping shut as if she’d just remembered something important.
He watched, fascinated, as emotions flickered across her face like she was mentally flipping through some sort of How to Be Victoria Everett manual and finding all the pages stuck together.
Jason shrugged out of his jacket with fluid grace, draping it over the back of an armchair before loosening his tie and undoing his top button.
He didn’t miss the way Victoria’s eyes followed the movement or how she swallowed hard when he rolled up his sleeves.
Usually, he’d retreat to his study, have Gregory send up something light, and spend the evening reviewing contracts.
But tonight… tonight he wanted to sit here and study this strange new version of his wife who watched Korean dramas and looked at him like he was the last chocolate soufflé at a dessert buffet.
He lowered himself into the armchair, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he observed her.
Victoria—or whoever she was—fidgeted under his gaze, twisting her fingers in her lap.
But her eyes… her eyes kept drifting from his face to his lips, then lower to where his open collar revealed a hint of chest, before settling on his forearms with an intensity that made his skin tingle.
The nervous gesture combined with that heated gaze was so un-Victoria-like that it made his heart ache with an unfamiliar tenderness.
Since when had his ice queen of a wife become…
adorable? And since when had anyone looked at him with such naked appreciation?
Victoria had always made him feel like a disappointing investment portfolio. But this woman… the way she looked at him made him suddenly, acutely aware of every inch of himself. Like he was seeing himself through new eyes. Like maybe he wasn’t just a convenient merger after all.
“So… how was your day at the office? Crush any corporate dreams? Destroy any competing empires?” she asked with a little grin, then immediately looked horrified, as if she’d just accidentally quoted Shakespeare at a monster truck rally.
Another thing the real Victoria would never do—wit was beneath her, unless it involved destroying someone’s social standing.
Her idea of humor was making waiters cry.
“Interesting day,” he said slowly, watching her with increasing fascination. “Particularly that viral video of you handling the situation at the luncheon.”
“Oh, that little drama?” She waved her hand dismissively, then caught herself.
“I mean, sometimes you just have to channel your inner bouncer, right? Who knew all those self-defense classes would come in—” She slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes widening in horror.
Victoria Everett referencing anything physical?
She might as well have admitted she’d skipped the ballet to watch wrestling.
“I should… I should probably get some rest now. Early morning tomorrow. You know, lots of… socialite things. Charity. Stuff. Things that definitely don’t involve binge-watching Korean dramas or anything less cultured than a night at the Metropolitan Opera!”
She practically levitated off the couch and was halfway up the stairs before she froze, horror dawning on her face. The notebook. She’d left her notebook on the coffee table.
Jason’s attention had already caught on it, his hand reaching out just as Victoria came thundering back down the stairs with all the grace of a baby giraffe learning to run. She snatched the notebook and clutched it to her chest like it contained the nuclear launch codes.