Chapter 91: The Reason Behind His Mood

Lucas Zeller leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms as his dark eyes shifted from the reports on his desk to the slender figure standing by the floor-to-ceiling window. His sharp gaze softened slightly, a glimmer of mischief and laziness replacing its usual intensity. 

"Mrs. Zeller, how about a cup of coffee?" His rich, teasing tone broke through the quiet hum of the office, dragging Claire Grace back from her daydreams. 

"Huh? What did you just say?" she asked, blinking in confusion. 

"I said, Mrs. Zeller, bring me a cup of coffee." Lucas's lips curved into a lazy grin as he crooked a finger at her, beckoning her closer. 

Claire's cheeks flushed crimson. She moved toward him at her usual snail's pace, hesitating with every step. But as soon as she reached his desk, Lucas's long arm shot out, pulling her firmly into his lap. 

Before she could react, his lips descended on hers, stealing her breath in a kiss that was at once gentle and wild. His mouth explored hers with a passion that sent sparks coursing through her veins, while his fingers, now trailing under her blouse, brushed lightly against her skin. The sensation was electric, leaving her both dazed and exhilarated. 

"Lucas…" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as the heat of his affection painted her neck a soft pink. Her bashful tone sent a shiver through Lucas's chest, making his heartbeat quicken. 

*Damn, I love it when she says my name like that,* Lucas thought, his lips quirking into a satisfied smirk as he nuzzled her cheek. 

"I can't… breathe…" Claire managed to gasp between kisses, her words muffled by his fervor. 

Reluctantly, Lucas released her, though his arms remained securely around her waist. He shifted her so that her head rested against his chest, giving her a moment to catch her breath. 

"Seriously, Claire? You're going to suffocate from kissing me?" Lucas teased, though there was a faint edge of irritation in his voice. "Do I need to keep an oxygen tank handy every time I want to kiss my wife?" 

Claire flushed even deeper at his blunt words. "Are you… upset with me?" she asked hesitantly, sensing a shift in his tone. 

Lucas's brow furrowed as he ran a hand through his dark hair. "Yeah, I'm upset," he said, leaning back with a frustrated sigh. "Apparently, my kissing isn't good enough if you're gasping for air like a drowning fish." 

"W-What?!" Claire stammered, mortified. Her embarrassment deepened as the image of their kiss played on repeat in her mind, mingling with memories of that morning—how Lucas had called her his wife in front of the entire office. 

She couldn't stop the small smile that crept across her face. 

Lucas caught the dreamy expression and couldn't resist leaning in to press another quick kiss to her lips. "What's got you grinning like that, Mrs. Zeller?" 

"It's nothing," she said quickly, though her blush betrayed her. In truth, it wasn't being called *Mrs. Zeller* that made her heart flutter—it was the moment Lucas had claimed her as *his wife*. To her, that title meant more than any public declaration. 

"What were you thinking about earlier, staring out that window like the world didn't exist?" Lucas asked, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. 

Claire hesitated, startled by his perceptiveness. "You noticed?" 

"Of course I noticed," Lucas scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're an open book. Anyone who wasn't blind could see it." 

Claire bit her lip, debating whether to share her thoughts. Finally, she admitted, "I was thinking about this morning." Her voice softened as she added, "About the phone call you got." 

Lucas stilled. His easygoing expression hardened for a moment before he forced a casual shrug. "What about it?" 

"Can I ask who it was?" Claire's voice was hesitant but filled with curiosity. 

Lucas sighed, his large hand enveloping hers. "As long as it's not a pointless question, I'll answer it," he replied, his tone softer now. 

Claire nodded eagerly. "It's just… who called you this morning?" 

Lucas's jaw tightened slightly as his gaze shifted toward the window. He was silent for so long that Claire wondered if he would answer at all. Just as she was about to retract the question, he said, "It was Baby." 

"Baby?" Claire blinked, her wide eyes filled with confusion. Then it clicked. "Oh… You mean your family's foster daughter, Bella Zeller?" 

"Who else?" Lucas's tone was sharp, though it wasn't directed at her. 

"So that night, during the… uh, *incident,* she was the one who called you too?" Claire asked cautiously. Both had come to refer to the failed romantic moment as *the incident.* 

Lucas nodded grimly. "She said she's coming back." 

Claire's face lit up. "Does that mean your parents might come back too?" she asked, barely able to contain her excitement. To her, the Zellers were the closest thing she had to family, and the idea of reuniting with them filled her with joy. 

Lucas, however, groaned, his frustration evident. "Bella is spoiled, demanding, and clingy," he muttered. "Most of her bad habits are my fault for indulging her." 

Claire tilted her head, surprised. "I've hardly heard you talk about her before. Your mom told me she's three years older than me and used to work here before moving to the U.S. Is that right?" 

Lucas nodded again. "She's a perfumer. She's got a real talent for it, but she doesn't take her work seriously. She'd rather spend her time doing other things." His tone turned darker. "Like falling for someone she shouldn't." 

Claire's eyes widened. "Wow, she sounds amazing! No wonder you're so protective of her. You must really love her," she said with a small smile. 

Lucas froze. "Who told you that?" he asked sharply, his voice rising unexpectedly. 

Claire blinked, taken aback by his sudden shift in mood. "I… Your mom mentioned it once," she stammered. 

"Stop jumping to conclusions," Lucas snapped. "Go make the coffee." 

Claire flinched at his tone but quickly nodded. She slid off his lap, her face flushed as she hurried toward the kitchenette. 

"Wait," Lucas called after her. "I'll make it myself. You'll just end up burning yourself again." 

Claire paused mid-step, glancing back at him with a sheepish smile. Lucas sighed heavily, standing and heading toward the coffee machine. 

"Seriously," he muttered under his breath, "what kind of CEO has to make his own coffee?"