Chapter 635 Julian: Winning Your Heart
Samuel walked over.
Zenobia's eyes flicked nervously toward Taylor, as if terrified that Samuel might overhear—or worse, that Taylor might blurt out the fact she was still married.
She needn't have worried.
Taylor had no interest in her personal mess. If she had agreed to take over Thalassa's treatment, she would give it her best. But a heart transplant was fate's game, not something money or willpower could guarantee.
When Taylor's expression stayed cool and unreadable, Zenobia relaxed. She didn't even bother to hide her closeness, leaning against Samuel's shoulder and whispering tearfully about the danger of Thalassa's condition.
Samuel's worry was plain.
But the constant stream of people outside the ER was wearing him down. He gave Zenobia's shoulder a gentle squeeze and told her to go back and be with Thalassa.
She dabbed at her eyes and nodded.
When the hallway emptied, only Taylor and Samuel remained. He seemed calmer now. First, he thanked her. Then he said, with quiet resolve, that he would do whatever it took to get Thalassa the surgery.
"I know you have ways," Samuel said. "Those labs need donations, don't they? Five hundred million, a billion—I don't care. Just make sure she gets a healthy heart."
Taylor's mind flicked to Zenobia's marital status.
Pulling off her mask, she met his gaze and said evenly, "Samuel, I know you have money. But before you spend it, you should ask yourself if the person is worth it."
It was meant as a warning. Samuel took it another way.
"You mean Zenobia? Taylor, I don't know why you're always against her. She's not the reason our marriage fell apart. I just stopped feeling like I had a home. If you had spent more time—"
He cut himself off.
Then, with a sharper edge, he added, "Worry about yourself. Don't let that Julian leave you with nothing."
"Thanks for the advice."
Taylor's smile was cold as she walked away, leaving Samuel to deal with his mess.
In the VIP room, Thalassa lay pale and still.
Zenobia sat at her bedside, murmuring that she never should have gone to the hotel. Samuel, hearing this, blamed himself as well, vowing to care for them both and promising he would spend everything to save Thalassa.
Tears welled in Zenobia's eyes.
Leaning into his arms, her voice softened. "Samuel, I don't know how I deserve your love. Compared to Dr. Montague, I have nothing. Yet you give me everything."
Samuel was silent for a moment.
"You have your own strengths."
"But I'm afraid Dr. Montague won't let go," Zenobia said, her tone trembling. "If she ever says anything to ruin our happiness, please, just ignore her. She only says those things because she loves you too much."
Samuel sighed. "If only Taylor were half as considerate as you."
The two of them sat close, united in their own little world.
Taylor didn't let Samuel's words ruin her day. Back in her office, Molly was waiting.
"Mr. Learmond sent flowers," Molly said.
Taylor glanced at the bouquet—and smiled.
"How do you know it's from Julian?"
Molly's lips curved. "He signed the card."
Taylor gave her a look. Molly ducked out, still smiling.
Taylor leaned against her desk, studying the flowers. Then she picked up her phone and called Julian. He answered almost instantly, as if he'd been waiting.
"Got the flowers?" His voice was warm.
Taylor hesitated. "Julian, we talked about this in the car—"
He cut her off gently, returning to an earlier question she hadn't answered. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Taylor? Does my being around you bother you?"
Her cheeks warmed. "Julian."
His soft laugh came through the line, but he let it drop.
Taylor eased into the sofa, her gaze settling on a vase of daffodils bathed in sunlight, each golden trumpet a soft reminder that even the coldest winters give way to spring.
That evening, she drove back to the Montague Mansion.
The sunset had set the whole place aflame in crimson, like a forest fire frozen in time. She pulled into the drive.
A servant opened her door and, with a conspiratorial tone, said, "Mr. Montague's been waiting two days for you."
Taylor smiled faintly. "More like complaining for two days."
Imitating Henry's voice, the servant said, "She's grown up now. Big things happen and she doesn't let the family step in. What if she gets burned?"
Taylor laughed. "That's uncanny."
"Better save the jokes," the servant murmured. "Your ears are about to get a workout."
Henry had indeed been ready to lecture her, but after two sentences he waved it off. "From now on, Samuel doesn't exist. You want him ruined, or just his company? Say the word, and Avery and I will handle it."
On the sofa, Avery flipped through a magazine. "Dad, it's a civilized country."
Amelia shot Henry a look. "Ignore him. He's all talk. He liked Samuel well enough at first."
Henry's face darkened. "I thought he'd earned his success. Didn't expect him to be so easily tempted. Married a few years and already tangled up with other women."
Taylor poured herself a glass of milk, smiling. "Out with the old, in with the new."
Henry's eyes narrowed. "And the new one—his name's Julian?"
Taylor nearly choked.
"He came by this morning," Henry said, his tone flat. "Two gifts and eighty billion dollars' worth of SamZen Tech stock. Bought in cheap last week, from the looks of it. The kicker—he signed a contract to hand it all over to you in a month."
Avery kept his eyes on the papers in front of him. "Julian's more generous than Samuel. My only regret is I'm not a woman.""
Taylor's cheeks flushed.
When she finally escaped her parents, she returned to her apartment—only to find a familiar Rolls-Royce parked outside. Leaning against it, the man responsible for her evening's blushes.
Julian.
Dressed in black, he blended into the night, exhaling smoke with the unhurried air of a man who had all the time in the world.
Taylor shut her car door. The sound made him glance over, his eyes softening. He stubbed out his cigarette and crossed to open the passenger door.
Luna hopped out.
In her preschool uniform and tiny backpack, she was impossibly cute.
Taylor's heart melted. She scooped the girl up and kissed her cheek.
"She's been asking for you since school let out," Julian said, his voice low and smooth. "When you weren't home, she insisted on waiting. She wants to spend the night."
Taylor froze.
She'd never had children, never even looked after one. Having Luna sleep over felt… too intimate, too close to Julian.
She opened her mouth to refuse—but Luna cupped her face and planted a noisy kiss.
Taylor's resolve crumbled. "Just one night?"
The little girl nodded solemnly. "Daddy will take me to school in the morning."
Taylor relaxed. One night she could handle. She had things to say to Julian anyway. Holding Luna, she glanced at him. "Come up for coffee."
Julian's eyes were shadowed, unreadable. After a beat, he took Luna from her arms and walked beside her to the door. The light above spilled over them, casting a soft halo—like a family.
Luna was a perfect angel, setting up at the little table to do her homework. Taylor's heart softened again.
While making coffee, she asked, "Is she always this well-behaved?"
Julian smiled. "She likes you. She's trying to impress you. Normally… no."
Taylor's ears went warm.
The coffee machine hissed and gurgled. Over the noise, she murmured, "Are we talking about Luna… or you?"
She thought he wouldn't hear.
He did.
Without a sound, he moved closer until his breath warmed the sensitive skin just behind her ear. His voice was a velvet whisper. "Are you asking if I like you? If I'm trying to impress you?"
"Julian…"
He didn't let her off the hook. "The gifts were from me. I told you—I'm old-fashioned. As for the stock, I'll hold it for a month. When I sell, you'll get the principal and the profit."
The coffee machine kept hissing.
Taylor turned, ready to speak, but Julian dipped his head. Their lips were so close she could feel the heat of his breath. Then he closed the distance, his hand sliding to her waist.
The kiss started tentative, then deepened, heat curling between them.
Taylor's fingers curled into his sleeve, leaving fine creases in the fabric. It wasn't enough for him. In one motion, he lifted her onto the counter and kissed her again, harder.
When they finally broke apart, the air between them was thick with heat. The coffee machine's noise had hidden their breaths, but the intimacy was magnified.
Still close, Julian's voice brushed her ear. "Does it feel good?"
Taylor's tone was defiant. "It's… fine."
He laughed low in his chest, the sound rich and maddening.
She pushed at him, but he leaned in again. "Lying won't help you."
Taylor glared. He straightened, glancing at the coffee machine, and smirked. "Shall I try your coffee?"
She slid off the counter, smoothing her hair. "I don't know how a man like you runs such a big business."
His gaze held hers. "I'm not like this with anyone else."
Taylor froze, lips parted.
Julian bent and kissed her again. When he pulled back, his voice was a murmur against her mouth. "You taste better than coffee."
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