Chapter 8: An Unexpected Kiss
Sean POV
The defiance in her eyes challenged me, pushed at something primal and possessive I hadn't known existed.
Before I could think better of it, I popped one of the pills into my mouth and pressed my lips to hers.
The kiss was meant to be functional – a way to force her to take the medication she needed.
But the moment our lips touched, something shifted. Her gasp of surprise parted her lips, and suddenly I was drowning in the taste of her, in the soft warmth of her mouth against mine.
For a heartbeat that seemed to stretch into eternity, we stood frozen in that moment of unexpected intimacy.
Then her hands came up hard against my chest, shoving me backward with surprising strength.
The crack of her palm against my cheek echoed in the bathroom's confined space.
"How dare you?" Her voice shook with fury. "You decide we should get divorced, and then you pull something like this?"
The sting of her slap was nothing compared to the fire in her eyes. This wasn't the carefully controlled Angela I'd known for two years. This was something else entirely – raw and real and somehow more compelling than I wanted to admit.
"You needed to take the medicine," I said, the excuse sounding weak even to my own ears.
"Don't." She backed away, putting space between us. "Don't pretend this is about my health. You've made your choice clear. Christina's back, the arrangement is ending – fine. But you don't get to play with me like this."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"What else would you call it?" Her laugh was brittle. "Making me take medicine like a child while you plan your future with another woman?"
The mention of Christina sent an unexpected wave of irritation through me. "This has nothing to do with her."
"Everything has to do with her!" Angela's voice rose. "The great Christina Jordan, who saved your life, who holds your heart, who—"
My phone's sharp ring cut through her words. Christina's name lit up the screen.
"You should get that," Angela said, the fight draining from her voice. "Your soulmate's calling."
She slipped past me before I could stop her, leaving me alone with the echo of her words and the lingering taste of her on my lips.
"Sean?" Christina's voice came through the speaker, warm and familiar. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
I sat behind my desk, trying to focus on the conversation and not on the phantom sensation of Angela's mouth against mine.
"What do you need?"
"Always so direct," she laughed. "I wanted to discuss the potential partnership between Shaw Group and my family's medical technology division. Perhaps over lunch?"
The invitation was clear in her tone – this would be more than a business meeting. Two years ago, I would have welcomed it. Now, something held me back.
"Send the proposal to my office," I said, keeping my voice professionally neutral. "We can review it there."
"Sean." Her voice softened to the intimate tone she'd always used to get her way. "We both know this conversation would be better had in person."
"Alright," I finally gave in to Christina's suggestion.
After hanging up, I called out to Angela. "I'll be back soon."
Only silence answered me.
The Four Seasons' private dining room was as elegant as ever, but I found my thoughts drifting.
Christina sat across from me, radiant in white Chanel, yet all I could think about was how pale and tired Angela had looked this morning.
I knew I should end our marriage as planned, but the thought of hurting Angela bothered me more than it should. Our marriage might have been arranged, but I'd always considered her a really good friend.
"Sean?" Christina's voice pulled me back to the present. "You seem distracted."
“Nothing”
“Please take me home!” Christina suggested after lunch.
Her hand found my thigh as soon as we were in the car, then moved to my cock, the touch bold and familiar.
Two years ago, this would have been enough to ignite desire. Now, it felt like an intrusion.
"Don't," I said, keeping my eyes on the road. "It's dangerous while driving."
She laughed softly, but something in my tone made her withdraw her hand. "How's Angela feeling?"
"Better."
"Good." She paused. "When are you filing for divorce?"
"I'm sorry." She added, "I just hate seeing you trapped in this... arrangement. Especially now that I'm back. We both know it's time to end it."
The same words I'd said to Angela days ago, yet somehow they felt different coming from Christina's perfectly painted lips.
"My grandmother's surgery—"
"Is in less than a month," she finished. "And then there's no reason to maintain this charade. Unless..." She leaned forward, her perfume washing over me. "Unless you've developed real feelings for her?"
"Don't be ridiculous." The denial came automatically, even as my mind flashed to the kiss we'd shared hours ago.
Christina's smile was knowing. "Then there's nothing stopping us from picking up where we left off. "
Her hand came to rest on my arm. "Some things are meant to be, Sean. You and me, we're inevitable. This detour with Angela – it's just that. A detour."
"It's not that simple..."
"Of course it is." Her confidence was absolute. "Once your grandmother's surgery is successful, you can end this farce. I love you,Sean."
The word 'love' hung in the air between us, suddenly making the car feel too small. The weight of it pressed against my chest, unexpected and suffocating.
The penthouse was quiet when I returned that evening, the silence broken only by the soft footsteps of Sarah, our longtime maid, as she approached me with obvious hesitation.
"Mr. Shaw?" Her hands twisted nervously in her apron. "I found something while cleaning Mrs. Shaw's bathroom. I... I wasn't sure if I should bring it to you, but..."
She held out a crumpled piece of paper, obviously retrieved from the trash. "It looked important, sir. Like medical results of some kind."
I took the paper, noting the New York-Presbyterian letterhead. Angela's name jumped out at me, along with a date from earlier this week.
"Thank you, Sarah. "
Alone in my study, I smoothed out the torn document, Angela's name at the top catching my eye immediately. The New York-Presbyterian letterhead and medical terminology made something uneasy settle in my stomach.
A routine check-up?
No, there had to be more.
Angela wouldn't be this secretive about a simple fever. The way she'd been acting lately, refusing medication, her emotional changes...
What else was wrong with her?