Chapter 175 Is This Alright, Vicky?
Her skin was akin to the most delicate porcelain, blushing at the faintest touch. He found himself unable to resist the temptation of stealing another kiss from her inviting lips.
She was a woman of unparalleled uniqueness, her talents nurtured since childhood. By the tender age of ten, her masterful paintings were already commanding a price of two million. As a prodigious student, she was a precious gem, even without the prestige of the Harrington name.
A mere four hundred thousand, with the Harrington's backing? Was this an insult to her, or to the Harringtons? It was a question that was difficult to answer.
"How much did you request?" Alexander Harrington abruptly inquired, a spark of curiosity igniting in his eyes.
Victoria Kensington was taken aback; he was aware that she had set her own price. "While I may not be privy to every detail about you, I understand your pride. You would undoubtedly demand a higher price." His confidence was unwavering this time.
A chuckle slipped from her lips involuntarily. She appreciated his understanding. Without a moment's hesitation, she disclosed, "I requested an amount ranging from twenty million to two hundred billion."
"Excuse me?"
"Two hundred billion dollars, and then I might contemplate leaving," she clarified. Despite the sinking feeling in her heart at the thought of him with Isabella Montgomery, she couldn't divert her attention from him. Always...
A hearty laugh erupted from Alexander Harrington upon hearing her demand. The Rohan Family was infamous in the city for their frugality, known for scrimping on weddings, festivities, charitable events - it was common knowledge. Two hundred billion dollars, indeed.
"Well, well," he mused, "It appears Victoria does harbor some affection for her man, doesn't she?" He was suddenly quite pleased with this revelation.
"Not at all," Victoria Kensington's gaze dropped as she softly denied his assumption. But Alexander Harrington merely chuckled, "If not, feelings can be cultivated."
Cultivated? Now? As Victoria Kensington lifted her gaze, she found herself locked in Alexander Harrington's deep, penetrating eyes. No, not now.
"Vicky," he began.
"Mr. Harrington, I would prefer if you addressed me as Miss Kensington, or simply Kensington," she corrected him. Why 'Vicky'? There was no one else present. They addressed each other with a familiarity that seemed out of place in the silence.
Victoria Kensington rebuffed such familiarity. "Does Miss Kensington, or should I say, Kensington, invite me into her bed?" Alexander Harrington's husky voice bridged the distance between them. Victoria felt her heart lurch, instinctively stepping back.
However, Alexander smoothly raised a hand to cradle the back of her head, preventing any injury as they both tumbled onto the bed. His hand was precise, cushioning her fall onto the plush pillows with pinpoint accuracy.
Alexander Harrington savored this precision, a smile dancing on his lips as he brushed a restrained kiss across her mouth, "Vicky, try to understand your husband."
"It's late," she declined to continue the conversation, especially given his suggestive proximity.
"Indeed," he acknowledged, yet made no move to leave.
Victoria reluctantly met his gaze once more, "Aren't you leaving?"
"Why would I leave my own wife's bed?" Alexander Harrington retorted.
Victoria's mind was a whirlwind. His proximity was wreaking havoc within her. His fingers traced her lips, pressing gently at the corners before claiming another kiss.
"No..." Before she could voice her protest, her lips were once again claimed.
Alexander Harrington savored her lips, an unexpected hunger consuming him—it felt surreal. Was he developing feelings for her? Benjamin Beaumont had posed that very question to him. She was his wife. Why shouldn't he harbor affection?
Victoria's hands clung to his shoulders in a futile attempt to push him away, but ultimately, she succumbed, melting under his passionate kiss. Reluctantly breaking away, Alexander pressed his forehead against hers, his voice strained with desire, "Vicky, is this alright?"
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