Chapter 212 Have a Drink with Her
In a bid to quell her rising panic, he quickly disentangled himself from her. His slender fingers began to rebutton her blouse, only to find that one button had been ripped off in his hasty handling.
Feeling a blush creep up his neck, he licked his dry lips and cast her a sidelong glance, "I didn't mean to."
Victoria Kensington's cheeks bloomed with a rosy hue of embarrassment as she murmured in a barely audible whisper, "It's okay." The top two buttons were superfluous anyway. She found herself wondering how he had managed to tear that one off.
Alexander rose to his feet, extending a hand towards her.
Victoria spared it a fleeting glance. She had always admired his hands, but she had never claimed them as her own and she had no intention of doing so now. She pushed herself up and quickly scrambled out of the bed.
As he watched her hasty retreat, Alexander found himself calling out to her, "The cake is on the desk, bring it in and we'll eat it here."
"Oh," she responded, hastily slipping on her modest heels before making her way out.
It took Alexander a moment to recover before he hurried after her. As he had suspected, she didn't look back and was making a beeline for the door.
"Victoria Kensington."
"Ah, ouch!"
He intercepted her at the door, pressing her against it from behind. The pressure against her chest was almost unbearable, causing her to wince in pain.
"Just stay still for a cake, can you manage that?" Alexander's voice held a hint of exasperation.
She had never been able to outrun him, yet she always tried.
He lessened the pressure, not wanting to cause her any more discomfort. It was the heat of the moment that had led to his rough handling.
At the sound of his softened tone, she quickly nodded in agreement, "Mhm."
No more running. She resigned herself to her fate, acknowledging that she could never outrun him, her ankle throbbing in protest.
She had been at work since dawn and it was already past eleven; she hadn't been home yet. Where could she possibly escape to? She just wanted to finish the cake quickly and retreat to the sanctuary of her own bed.
"You bring the cake to the lounge, and I'll open a bottle of wine," he instructed.
"Huh? Why do we need to open a bottle now?" Victoria looked up at him, confusion etched on her face.
Alexander Harrington offered a wry smile, "Victoria, have you ever seen a man who doesn't crack open a bottle on his birthday?"
Victoria didn't appreciate his use of her first name. It was a bit too familiar for her liking.
With a resigned sigh, she went to fetch the cake.
Alexander lingered by the doorway, adding, "And bring that box next to it in as well."
Victoria noticed it was filled with roast duck and sushi. She was slightly concerned she might overindulge tonight.
But, what could she do?
She dutifully carried the items inside, casting a curious glance at the door, wondering why he stood there. His office had its own stash of red wine. Occasionally, when certain guests dropped by, they'd spontaneously decide to have a glass or even several.
She smirked to herself. The lifestyles of the rich and famous were beyond her comprehension.
Victoria set the items down and began to unwrap the boxes.
Alexander uncorked the bottle and fetched two pristine wine glasses, making his way inside.
When Victoria looked up and saw the oversized glasses in his hand, she froze. Surely he didn't think she could hold her liquor?
He settled into the couch and poured wine for them both.
Victoria glanced at the wine glass, set the boxes aside, and tried to sound nonchalant, "Can I skip the wine?"
"Just a glass. You have to have at least one," he insisted.
She felt a knot of anxiety in her stomach, but reasoned that one glass shouldn't be too detrimental.
"You can handle a drink, can't you? It seems improper to turn down the birthday boy," he almost reminded her that the birthday boy was also her husband.
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