Chapter 278: Kellan's playful teasing held an almost imperceptible hint, like a shadow flirting at the edge of a dream. Sunlight streamed through the window, scattering across his collarbone and bathing him in a soft, golden light that made him seem even more captivating than usual.
His face, typically composed and unreadable, now bore an expression that stirred something faint in Allison—a fleeting sensation brushing against her heart like the whisper of a breeze.
"Then I'd like to take it off," Allison murmured, stepping closer and bending down to undo the necklace.
Just as Kellan had warned, the clasp was tricky, fastened tightly. It took Allison a few extra moments to work it loose, her fingers fumbling with the delicate mechanism. She should have focused solely on the necklace, especially since it so closely resembled her late mother's keepsake. Yet, for a brief instant, her eyes wandered to Kellan's neck.
With a few buttons undone, the clean lines of his collarbone seemed to lead her gaze downward, revealing a glimpse of his firm chest. The snakehead pendant, nestled between his toned muscles, held a cold, mysterious, and dangerously inviting allure. It stirred memories—flashes of that night on the yacht, the way Kellan's slender waist had moved with controlled power, and how his chest had felt so unexpectedly supple yet strong beneath her touch.
"Ms. Clarke, if you're struggling, I can guide you," Kellan murmured, his deep eyes glinting like a secret hidden in the depths of a still lake, drawing her in. "There's a hidden clasp on the right side. Try loosening that one first."
His fingers grazed the clasp at his neck, tilting it towards her, causing their hands to brush together ever so lightly. The contrast was electrifying—his warmth against her cool touch, a subtle current humming through the air. Allison had never given much thought to how a man's body could radiate warmth from something as simple as a touch.
"Perhaps it's best if I handle it myself," she muttered, breaking eye contact as she continued to fumble with the clasp. But as her fingers skimmed over his skin, she couldn't help but notice how Kellan's body responded, his skin reddening faintly, betraying a sensitivity that caught her off guard.
"Are you feeling warm, Mr. Lloyd?"
"Not warm," he replied, his tone even, though a teasing smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he gently tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "Just…a little ticklish."
It suddenly dawned on her: when she had bent down earlier, her hair must have brushed against his neck, causing that faint blush. That explained why his skin had flushed so unexpectedly. But even after he'd tucked her hair back, a few loose strands continued to fall as she worked on the clasp.
She was about to tie her hair into a ponytail when Kellan's hand reached out again, gathering the stray locks into his fingers.
"Don't trouble yourself with that, Ms. Clarke. Just keep working on the necklace," he said, his voice calm and steady. His fingers, slightly roughened from calluses, held her silky strands with delicate care. The coolness of her hair against his warm hands made it feel even softer, more fragile. All the while, his gaze remained fixed on her face.
Allison, absorbed in undoing the clasp, wore a look of concentration, her features set in quiet beauty that seemed to shine more in the soft light. From where he sat, Kellan took in every detail—the sweep of her long lashes, the soft flush of her lips. The scent of roses from the garden lingered in the air, and the memory of her fingers brushing against his skin left a tingling sensation that hadn't yet faded.
"Thank you for earlier, Ms. Clarke," Kellan's voice, deep and worn with fatigue, broke the silence. "I was buying a clay doll for Lorna when those two stirred up trouble. I should have stepped in sooner, and you ended up getting caught in the middle."
He sounded tired, drained from the day's chaos, yet being in Allison's presence seemed to soothe him. The tension that had built throughout the day ebbed away, much like his constant headaches, which always seemed to lessen whenever he caught the scent of the perfume she had crafted. In many ways, Allison was his remedy.
"No need to thank me, Mr. Lloyd," Allison replied, finally managing to undo the clasp. "We don't have to be so formal. Besides, I didn't suffer much. Compared to Hoyt and his mother, I find Colton and Melany far more unbearable."
With a small smile, she removed the necklace and held it closer, marveling at its intricate design. The craftsmanship was unmistakable, perfectly matching the bracelet her mother had once left behind. The materials and techniques clearly came from the same artisan. Yet, despite years of searching, Allison had found no trace of her mother's bracelet in any records.
"I'll snap a picture of it first," she said, standing up with the necklace in hand, intending to send it to her contacts at Cobweb for further investigation. But as she rose, her eyes unexpectedly met Kellan's. Kellan, who had been lounging on the couch, now tilted his head up towards her. Their proximity was closer than it should have been, and as she leaned down and he tilted his head up, the space between them became nearly intimate. They were so near that a minor movement might have resulted in a kiss.