Chapter 57: The Drunken Temptress

"Eat your dinner and stop sucking up!" Lucas snapped, though, deep down, he didn't mind her flattery.

Claire gave a sheepish laugh, ready to start her meal, but a problem quickly arose. The swelling on the back of her right hand was so severe she couldn't grip her utensils properly. She could only stare longingly at the delicious food in front of her, unable to eat.

Lucas glanced at her, his expression unreadable, before silently pushing a small plate of neatly cut lamb chops toward her.

"Mr. Zeller…" Claire's voice was soft, filled with warmth and gratitude. Lucas really could be kind. Sure, he was domineering, sharp-tongued, and often acted as if the world revolved around him. But he also had moments of tenderness—he was attentive, considerate, and caring. Not only was he a renowned perfume and cosmetics designer, but he could also cook. His skills were so impressive that Claire's heart sank with the weight of admiration, as if it were plummeting on a rollercoaster.

"Don't make noise while you eat," Lucas muttered, clearly uncomfortable under her admiring gaze. He quickly turned his head away, grabbed a nearby bottle of red wine, and poured a small amount into a crystal wine glass. As he swirled the glass, the enticing aroma of flowers mixed with fruit filled the air.

"Mr. Zeller, is that a drink?" Claire asked curiously, pointing to the wine.

"Here, this is yours," Lucas said, handing her the glass without bothering to explain. Even if he told her it was a Turkish vintage from the rolling hills of Ludi, she wouldn't understand the difference from any other red wine.

Claire accepted the glass and took a small sip. Her eyes widened with delight.

"Wow! Mr. Zeller, this is amazing! It's so light and delicate—it feels like my taste buds are floating!" Before Lucas could react, she drained the glass in one gulp and eagerly held it out for more. "Mr. Zeller, I want another."

"Another? You really like it that much?" Lucas raised an eyebrow in surprise. He took the glass, refilled it, and handed it back to her.

"It's really good! It's like the king of fruits—all the different flavors mix together perfectly, and the texture is amazing." She took another large sip, nearly finishing the glass again.

Alarmed, Lucas reached out to stop her. "Claire, stop drinking! This is red wine, not juice. It has a strong kick, and you'll get a headache if you drink too much."

"But I like it!" she said, her voice taking on a playful, slightly slurred tone. For some reason, she felt an overwhelming urge to act coy in front of him. Her head was starting to feel a little light, and she found herself gazing at him, the handsome lines of his face making her heart race.

"Mr. Zeller... why don't you ever smile?" she suddenly asked, her voice serious.

Lucas froze, frowning. "Why would I need to smile?" he asked. Smiling for no reason wasn't a sign of charm—it was a sign of stupidity.

"Because you look really handsome when you smile," she said, her fingers tugging slightly at the collar of her blouse. It was starting to feel a little hot. She bit her lip and added, "And I like it when you smile."

The words nearly made Lucas choke.

What the hell is going on? Claire was being way too complimentary tonight.

He half-closed his eyes and looked across the table at Claire, whose cheeks were flushed pink. His heart skipped a beat. Oh no… she'd definitely had too much red wine. The alcohol was kicking in now.

As if to confirm his thoughts, Claire stood up from her seat, slowly making her way around the table to his side. She leaned down toward him, her face dangerously close. The intoxicating scent of wine filled the air between them, making his heart race faster.

"Mr. Zeller... I'm feeling sleepy. I'm going to take a shower and head to bed now," she murmured, her lips inching closer and closer to his.

Lucas opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say a word, her lips brushed against his. By the time he realized what had just happened, she was already giggling and swaying her way to the staircase.

Lucas sat there in stunned silence, his hand automatically going to his lips. He could still feel the warmth of her kiss and the faint taste of wine lingering on his skin. His heart was pounding in his chest, as if he were a teenager experiencing his first crush.

They say women are temptresses, he thought. Turns out, a drunken woman is the ultimate temptress.