Chapter 85: Heartbeat in Disarray

Lucas's sudden kiss was wild and commanding, an undeniable force that overtook Claire's senses. His lips sought hers with a heated fervor, his tongue exploring with a fiery intensity that seemed to melt away all rational thought. The kiss burned through her, igniting trails of electricity across her body.

Claire's eyes widened in shock, her chest tightening as erratic pulses coursed through her. Her heartbeat was out of sync, chaotic.

"Close your eyes!" Lucas's hoarse growl broke through the haze. His strong hand slipped beneath the soft fabric of her pink dress, trailing along her smooth back.

"Mmph…" Her mouth, sealed under his dominance, left no room for words. Even the muscles around her eyes seemed too tense to obey, stubbornly remaining open despite her best efforts.

Lucas frowned, pressing her down onto his lap. His broad hand cupped her small face, fingers lightly brushing over her eyelids. As he pulled away, her wide, unblinking gaze finally surrendered, her eyes closing instinctively.

But something felt strange… She couldn't help but think her rigid posture resembled something like…a ghost unwilling to rest in peace. No! What kind of absurd, morbid thought was that to have in such an intimate moment? She mentally scolded herself.

Still, what exactly was Lucas doing? Her thoughts snapped back as she became acutely aware of his hands. One had slipped under her dress, caressing her curves, while the other… When had her neckline become so loose? And why was his head lowering, his lips trailing sensuously down her neck?

"Lucas, what are we…doing?" she managed to ask, though she wasn't naïve enough to not know where this was heading. Her concern lay more with the time and place.

From Lucas's perspective, her question bordered on ridiculous, unworthy of an answer. He was too preoccupied with the buttons at the back of her dress.

"Lucas, it's broad daylight…" Claire continued, her voice tinged with disbelief. Broad daylight! Did he have no concept of propriety?

"And who says broad daylight isn't a good time for intimacy between a husband and wife?" he retorted, his deep voice unapologetically bold.

"But we're in a car, on the side of the road—"

"No one can see inside," he interrupted, his tone exasperated. He wasn't foolish enough to put on a public display for the world to gawk at.

"What do you mean 'no one can see inside'? The car's been parked here for ages without anyone stepping out or driving off. Anyone passing by will start imagining—"

"The only one with such dirty thoughts is you," Lucas shot back, finally freeing a couple of buttons.

"Me? Dirty thoughts?!" Claire's voice rose in stunned indignation. Who was the one initiating all of this in the middle of the day, after they had just been fighting?

"Lucas, you—"

"Shut up," he ordered gruffly. Frustrated by the slow progress with the dress, he leaned down and silenced her protests with another searing kiss. His hands roamed her body with almost magical precision, leaving her trembling with sensations she couldn't resist.

"Lucas…we can't…" she whispered in a breathless struggle, only to be silenced again by his heated sighs and a bold movement that left her utterly still. The small, enclosed space of the car filled with a tenderness that overwhelmed any lingering protests.

---

The phrase *"fights that end in the bedroom"* had never felt more appropriate.

As Lucas restarted the car and began the drive home, Claire sat stiffly, her cheeks flushed crimson as she avoided looking in his direction. Even her usual habit of sneaking glances out of the corner of her eye had vanished. Her heart raced, and she felt utterly flustered. She hadn't expected Lucas's condition to improve so dramatically after taking the medicine Shauna had introduced. But the evidence was undeniable.

"Doesn't your neck hurt from sitting like that?" Lucas's voice, tinged with amusement, broke the silence.

"Huh?" She turned toward him abruptly.

"Are you ready to tell me how you know him?" he asked, steering the conversation elsewhere.

It took Claire a moment to realize he was referring to Brian, or rather, *Master Brian,* as she'd called him.

"You've already met him," she began hesitantly. "Remember that day at the department store when I almost got crushed by the shelves, but someone saved me?"

"So what?" Lucas asked, his gaze briefly flickering toward her. Then, as if a realization struck, he added, "You're not about to tell me that guy was *Master Brian,* are you?" His tone dripped with irritation, especially over the honorific "Master Brian." The familiarity in the nickname annoyed him more than he cared to admit. Besides, hadn't the person who saved her that day been a woman?

"That was him," Claire confirmed, watching Lucas's expression shift to one of disbelief. "He's the same person, though he's cut his hair short now."

"Is he gay?" Lucas asked out of nowhere, his words landing with a bluntness that left Claire reeling.

"What? How can you say that about him?" she exclaimed, aghast. "That's so rude!"

"Any man who looks that pretty and keeps long hair is just asking to be mistaken for a woman. I'd bet he's got some issues with his…preferences. Probably gay," Lucas declared, his jealousy thinly veiled as he dismissed his rival.

"Please! Master Brian is a renowned stylist. Even with his short hair, he's still a stunningly handsome man. But I can assure you, he's not gay."

"You like him, don't you?" Lucas's voice dropped, dark and accusing.

"What? No! Where is this coming from?" Claire stammered, utterly flustered by the sudden interrogation.

"Don't deny it," Lucas pressed. "You like him because he's prettier than most women. That's why you told him to think it over, why you contacted him again. Are you planning to divorce me and run off with him?"

Divorce? Run off? What was he even talking about?