Chapter 20

Donovan stared at Giselle as if she were insane. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice cold with fury. This was his office, a formal space for business. The appearance of a woman he’d been intimate with was an offense.

But Giselle wasn't her usual aggressive self. She sidled closer, her eyes fixed on him, a flirtatious smile playing on her lips. “It’s been half a month since we last met,” she drawled. “I missed you, so I thought I’d drop by.” With that, she perched herself on his desk, completely at ease, as if she owned the place.

Despite her seductive attire and alluring scent, Donovan remained indifferent. “Giselle, didn’t I tell you to disappear from my life completely?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

The room fell silent. Then she chuckled. “You saved my life at the Holt residence. If I’d vanished, wouldn’t that make me look heartless?” She scooted forward, until she was directly in front of him. Kicking off her heels, she boldly rested her legs—clad in sheer black stockings—on his lap.

“Mr. Kane,” she purred. “Honestly, if you hadn’t risked your life to save me, I might be dead or paralyzed. Don’t you think I should properly… thank you?”

Donovan’s expression darkened. “Don’t bring up that day again,” he snapped, roughly brushing her legs away. “If you’d died elsewhere, it wouldn’t concern me. But your death at the Holt residence would have ruined my wedding. Like hell I’d stand by and do nothing.” He stood and ordered, “Get out now.”

He went to the full-length window for air. Giselle remained seated, openly admiring him. For someone so cold and aloof, his broad shoulders and tall frame still felt like an invitation for sex. “So… where do you want me to go?”

She crept behind him and whispered in his ear, “To Zachary, maybe? He asked me out for another swim today. Should I go?”

“Shut up!” The name barely left her lips before Donovan snapped. He spun around, glaring, and hissed, “Don’t you dare use him to test my patience. Or I swear I’ll kill you.”

Giselle didn’t flinch. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she adopted a sweet, playful tone. “Don’t be so mean. How about we play a game? If I lose, I’ll leave.”

He glowered, silent. Perhaps the suggestion surprised him, because despite her proximity, he remained unfazed. Grinning, she continued, “The game is… I’ll guess your underwear brand. If I’m right, I win. If I’m wrong, I lose.”

Donovan’s eyes darkened. Unable to bear her any longer, he shoved her away.

“I’m guessing… Armani?” she said, unfazed by his anger. She clung to his neck again, her eyes full of allure, coaxing him into the game. His face remained unreadable, but the tension between them was undeniable, especially with her soft body pressing against him.

“I said get out. Didn’t you hear me?”

“Not until you tell me if I guessed right.”

“No!”

“I don’t believe you. I need to check for myself.”

Like a shameless flirt, Giselle reached for his belt, ready to undo it.