Chapter 162
The man dropped out of the sky–literally.
No one could have seen it coming.
Celestine barely registered the blur of his face before her ankle twisted in shock, sending her stumbling straight toward the nearest rosebush, all thorns and tightly closed buds.
Early spring thorns can pierce right through you. Cold dread seized her. This is it, she thought, bracing for impact.
She thrashed in vain and, acting on instinct, shielded her face and squeezed her eyes shut.
One second. Two. Three.
The pain she expected never came.
Instead, a familiar hint of cologne drifted to her nose–subtle, clean, and oddly comforting. Her heart, which had been pounding with panic, started to slow.
Gideon looked down at the woman in his arms.
Her long lashes quivered against her cheeks. She was still frightened, looking for all the world like a startled fawn–helpless and innocent.
He swallowed, his voice low and slightly rough as he spoke. “It’s me. Don’t be afraid.”
The sound of his voice made her lashes flutter again, Slowly, Celestine lifted her eyelids, her eyes wide with relief and disbelief.
“Mr. Prescott?” she breathed.
Gideon’s face was close, those striking grey eyes fixed on her.
“That was dangerous…”
Celestine glanced up, following the path he’d taken.
Wait–he’d just jumped from the second floor?!
Upstairs, the commotion outside reached the ears of those inside.
Cicely Jenson, who had been irritably scratching at Vernon’s face, froze mid–attack.
1/3
14:14
hapter 102
She bolted for the stairwell with the energy of a storm.
Vernon, clutching the fresh scratch on his cheek, went pale. Oh no, oh no, oh no! He hurried after her.
Cicely caught sight of dirty footprints on the windowsill, her eyes narrowing. “Unbelievable! You two are at it again–always with your ridiculous distractions!”
Charging to the window, she stopped dead, gaping at the sight below: a man and woman wrapped in each other’s arms beside the flowerbed.
For a moment, she was frozen in shock.
“What are you two doing down there?!”
Her voice, sharp and furious, exploded from above.
“Get away from him! Giddy, how could you do this to me? You–homewrecker! Get your hands off him!”
Celestine nearly jumped out of her skin.
Only then did she realize she was still pressed against Gideon’s chest, his arm steadying her so she wouldn’t fall into the roses.
Her cheeks flamed as the compromising position dawned on her.
She scrambled out of his arms, shooting an apologetic look up at Cicely, who was practically foaming at the mouth on the second floor.
“You little tramp! Just you wait! You think you can steal my man? I’ll make you pay!-mmph, mmph!”
The rest of her tirade was muffled by a hand clamping over her mouth, and with that, the furious woman vanished from the window.
Celestine stood there, flustered and lost, then turned urgently to Gideon. “Your wife seems to have misunderstood. I should go explain-”
Gideon arched an eyebrow, then seemed to catch her meaning. ‘Wife, huh? A laugh, short and incredulous, escaped him.
Just then, the driver pulled up with the car.
“Get in,” Gideon said.
“What?” Celestine blinked, not following.
He opened the back door and leaned casually against it, eyes glinting with
14:14
Chapter 162
amusement. “Didn’t you say you needed to buy something? I’ll see it through.”
Celestine was suddenly reminded of the message she’d sent him not long ago–and her face burned even hotter.
After a moment’s hesitation, she slid into the back seat under his watchful gaze.
Back inside the hotel, Cicely jabbed her elbow straight into Vernon’s gut.
“You witch! Let go of me–I’m going after her! I’ll fight her for him! I want a duel!” Right now, Cicely was like a wildcat gone berserk.
Vernon clung to her waist for dear life, refusing to let go even as she pummeled
him.
All the while, he was desperately chanting to himself: Workplace injury, workplace injury, definitely a workplace injury…
