Chapter 174 Does It Still Hurt?
As Alexander Harrington's lips met hers, Victoria Kensington's mind was set ablaze. She was utterly confounded by his sudden return, let alone his thoughtfulness in bringing her pain medication. His hand on her ankle sent a tingling sensation coursing through her, and the crisp taste of alcohol on his lips was a stark contrast to the tenderness of his touch.
She yearned to pull away, but his deft hand on her ankle held her in place, and without a moment's hesitation, he gently pushed her down onto the couch.
As their kiss deepened, the wine bottle rolled across the white carpet, seemingly mirroring his intent to consume her breath. Even Alexander himself couldn't fathom why he had kissed her so impulsively. He reminded himself to exercise restraint. Gradually, he pulled back, his gaze falling upon the blushing girl beneath him.
A soft murmur escaped his lips, "A husband kissing his wife should be permissible, right?"
Victoria's eyes were downcast, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts as he moved off her. His gaze returned to her ankle, now cool under his touch, as he softly asked, "Does it still hurt?"
"Much better," she replied, rising to her feet and unable to resist stealing a glance at him. Could it be concern? Genuine concern?
As she looked down at her ankle, feeling the gentle pressure of his fingers, her reasoning threatened to abandon her. She had never allowed any man, other than her father, to touch her ankle in such a manner.
When she was a child and got injured, her father would apply ointment, but those days were long gone. Since the age of thirteen, it had been her mother caring for her. Alexander was the first man, not of her family, to touch her ankle with such intimacy. This was yet another first for her. How many more firsts did he intend to claim with her?
The atmosphere in the room seemed to grow increasingly charged; she wanted to tell him to leave. But as she looked up, she met his dark gaze, prepared and intense, and her heartbeat thundered in response. "I'll carry you back to your room, and then we can talk," he said softly, approaching her once again.
Victoria instinctively recoiled, "Alexander Harrington, I can manage on my own." That was how she had first addressed him when they met. And so it was again tonight.
Alexander paused for a few seconds, then flashed a shallow smile and leaned in close, "Your man is not just for show."
Before she could comprehend his words, she was effortlessly scooped up from the couch. Victoria gazed blankly at the man carrying her towards the bedroom, it took her a while to regain her senses.
After he placed her on the bed, Victoria thought he would leave. In a soft voice, she said, "Drive safe."
"You want to send me off just after I’ve carried you to bed? Victoria Kensington, that's not how you use someone," he responded, gently sweeping the stray locks from her face as he smiled at her.
Victoria was stunned. When had she ever used him? She had insisted she could walk; he was the one who chose to carry her. "Besides, there are some things we need to clear up, right?" he said with sudden seriousness.
Victoria composed herself, "What things?"
"Isabella Montgomery's mother offered you two hundred thousand to stay away from me, right?" he confirmed with her.
"Yes," Victoria hesitated for two seconds. Should she speak up? And why shouldn't she? Why should she bear the humiliation of the Montgomery's twenty thousand offer by herself? She had no ties, no obligations to keep their secrets, did she?
"So in the Montgomery family's eyes, that's all I'm worth," Alexander said with a low chuckle.
Victoria looked at him curiously, unable to resist clarifying, "It's just that I'm not worth much to them."
"Jokes aside, there's nothing cheap about a Harrington," Mrs. Harrington of Harrington's Family most certainly would not be undervalued.
Alexander caressed the skin on her face, which soon softened, yet his gaze deepened with an intensity of emotion.
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