CHAPTER 36: UNTITLED II

CHAPTER 36: UNTITLED II

James felt a familiar pull, his eyes tracing the way her muscles moved with each stir. He approached her slowly, his eyes lingering on the smooth curve of her back exposed by the low neckline. He found himself drawn to the sway of her hips as she flipped the meat, a forbidden heat rising in his chest.

"Never going to get enough of that view," he murmured, the words almost slipping past his lips. He swallowed, caught off guard by the raw heat rising within him.

"Diana?" he called softly, his voice barely a whisper. "Never seen anyone rock a tank top and grill masterclass quite like you," he breathed, his voice husky with unspoken desire.

Diana finally turned, a playful glint in her eyes. "What was that?" she teased, arching an eyebrow. The view she showed him as she turned to him shocked James to the core.

Behind the apron she wore he noticed she was braless under because her full breasts stood and pointed proudly towards him. unable to hold himself any longer, James grabbed her and kissed her ravishingly. Diana opened her mouth to accept the kiss as she placed her hand that held the spatula and her free hand across his neck. With that position she took, it gave James a reason to draw her in and deepen the kiss seemingly not able to get enough. The kiss was urgent as their teeth's clashed against each other. it took Diana all her willpower to break him away from her.

James smiled inhaling deeply. "What are you up to?" he asked, holding her closer as he breathed against her neck before pulling away.

Diana met his gaze, her eyes shimmering with a mix of innocence and unspoken vulnerability, something that sent a shiver down his spine. "Welcome home, hubby," she said, her voice a soft caress, ignoring his earlier question.

The smile that bloomed on her face was one he'd never seen before, a radiant curve that could melt glaciers and steal breaths. A disarming mix of innocence and something else entirely, something that tugged at a forgotten corner of his soul. He blinked, momentarily stunned by its potency. It was a smile that whispered secrets and promised forbidden pleasures.

James had never realized how captivating her smile could be, a smile that could make any man want to do anything for her, how it could twist his insides and make him forget the world around them. His usual gruff response died in his throat, replaced by a possessive growl. He found himself blurting out, "Don't smile like that for any other man, okay?" he muttered, the words thick with unspoken desire and a hint of threat.

Diana: ...!

The playful twinkle in Diana's eyes dimmed, replaced by a flicker of surprise. Her smile faltered, then vanished altogether. She nodded slowly, a forced smile creeping up her cheeks. "Understood," she whispered, her voice barely a sigh. The weight of his words settling heavily on her.

The carefree joy that had moments ago filled the room had evaporated, leaving a strange tension in its wake.

James, his initial surprise fading, felt a prickle of unease. He hadn't meant to corner her, to leash her smile like a prized possession. Yet, the thought of another man witnessing that smile, that vulnerability, fueled a possessive fire within him.

Remembering the burning steak, she turned back to the stove, the sizzle momentarily claiming her attention. "Go wait in the dining room," she said over her shoulder, her voice surprisingly firm. "Dinner will be ready soon."

James frowned, his desire warring with a newfound sense of concern. "Can't I hold you a little longer?" he whined, his voice devoid of its usual arrogance.

Diana's head snapped around, her eyes flashing with a steely resolve. "No, James," she said, her voice firm and surprisingly cold. "You're distracting me."

He sighed, defeated, and retreated to the dining room, the scent of garlic and spices teasing his senses.

The luxurious furniture felt cold and empty without her presence. As he waited, the minutes stretched into an eternity, each tick of the clock echoing the growing unease in his gut.

Finally, Diana entered, the maids flanking her like silent shadows as they set the table. Instead of the usual lavish spread, Diana presented a simple yet mouthwatering feast: stir-fried noodles infused with a sweet-savory chicken sauce, sizzling sausages nestled beside tender steaks, and a colorful medley of side dishes.

"Who eats like this?" James asked, his voice gruff, almost accusatory. He gestured to the spread with a frown as she sat down. He had never really eaten noodles with such side dishes.

Diana removed the apron as her chest came in his full view. James felt his member throb painfully just staring at her full breasts that kind of popped out a little from the singlet. Don't tell me Nicodemus saw her like this, he thought.

Was it that she had no idea or she didn't care what she did to him when she dressed like this, and if him who thought he had self control could react this way, what about other men like Nicodemus? What would they do if they saw her like this?

"Me," Diana replied, her voice barely a whisper, jolting James from his reverie. "I love to eat like this".

He blinked, the image of her in that revealing outfit still burning behind his eyelids. He fiddled with his fork, his mind swirling with a sudden, unsettling thought.

"Maybe I should sack Nicodemus and Antonio," James mumbled, his voice tight.

Diana's eyebrows shot up. "Why?"

"So they don't get to see you dressed like this." He stood abruptly, his movements jerky. His gaze lingered on her exposed arm as he reached across the table and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, draping it over her shoulders with a gesture that felt oddly possessive. "From now on, you dress like this only for me."

The surprise on Diana's face was palpable and morphed into a flicker of anger. She drew the jacket closer, a wry smile playing on her lips, but her eyes flashed defiance.

Nicodemus, standing discreetly near the doorway, felt his breath hitch. He'd warned her earlier, before she donned this daring outfit, about James' potential reaction. But she'd assured him she'd wear an apron. He hadn't seen much, thankfully, his age granting him some immunity from such sights. But the glimpse he had caught, the fleeting image of his employer's wife in that revealing attire, was one that would likely fuel his fantasies until his dying breath. He shook his head at his own thoughts and cleared his throat, a nervous tick taking hold.

Diana looked at James, but he barely acknowledged her, his gaze fixed on his plate. He seemed oblivious to the fire simmering in her eyes. "Does me dressing like this make you unhappy?" she asked, her voice tight.

James looked up then, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine and a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.

He gave Nicodemus a curt nod, dismissing the man from the room. His attention returned to Diana, his eyes burning with a mix of desire and something else, something darker, something she couldn't quite decipher, his focus intense.

The tension hung heavy in the air, laced with unspoken promises and a hint of danger. This intimacy, this domesticity, was uncharted territory. He was drawn to her, no doubt, but this was a new dance, a game played beyond the usual charade of their marriage.