Chapter 87 Chapter 87
At Wolf Company - President's Office.
Caroline awoke slowly, blinking against the soft light streaming into the room. For a moment, she felt disoriented, until the familiar scent of sandalwood and the comfort of the high-thread-count sheets brought her back to reality.
She got up, smoothing her dress, and walked quietly to the door connecting the bedroom to the main office.
The scene she encountered made her stop in her tracks.
Nicholas was sitting behind his imposing glass desk, immersed in his work.
He had taken off his jacket. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong, veiny forearms. The top two buttons of his collar were open, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of his chest and tanned skin.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the half-open curtains, bathing the gray floor and casting shadows that accentuated the sharp angles of his face.
They say that men focused on work exude a dangerous kind of attraction. Caroline had to agree. At that moment, he was the definition of power.
With his head down reading a document, the line of his jaw seemed carved from marble. The office was silent except for the rhythmic, authoritative sound of his fountain pen scratching across the paper.
Even without saying a word, he radiated an aura of asceticism—cold, untouchable, distant. A king on his throne of ice.
It was difficult to associate this serious, imposing man with the passionate husband who whispered sweet nothings in her ear. They seemed like two different people inhabiting the same perfect body.
Caroline felt her heart race. Not wanting to break that magnetic concentration, she decided to tiptoe out.
However, the moment her foot touched the office carpet, Nicholas's head lifted. His eyes, previously focused and cold, met hers and softened instantly.
“My dear...” His voice was hoarse and deep. “Did you sleep well?”
Caroline froze, feeling her cheeks flush.
“Did I interrupt you?” she asked, biting her lower lip, embarrassed to have been caught watching him.
“Never.”
Nicholas placed his pen on the desk with a soft click. He turned his chair slightly and held out his hand, curling his index finger in a beckoning gesture that was both an invitation and a command.
“Come here.”
As if hypnotized, Caroline walked toward him.
As soon as she was within reach, Nicholas didn't hesitate. His strong arm wrapped possessively around her waist, pulling her down until she was settled on his lap.
Caroline let out a small gasp of surprise, her hands instinctively landing on his broad shoulders for balance.
He buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. His warm breath sent electric shivers down her spine.
“You are infinitely more important than any paper on this table,” he whispered against her sensitive skin.
Caroline felt her face burn, a red blush spreading from her cheeks to her ears.
Seconds ago, he had seemed like an unreachable god. Now, he was just a man addicted to her, making her heart beat so hard it felt like it wanted to jump out of her mouth.
“W-why didn't you take me to school?” she stammered, trying to divert attention from the tension growing between them. His face was so close she could count his eyelashes.
Nicholas's chest vibrated with a low, hoarse laugh.
“You passed out as soon as you got in the car,” he explained, brushing his nose lightly against her cheek. “You looked so peaceful... I didn't have the heart to wake you up. So, selfishly, I brought you into my world.”
Caroline had already sent a message to Tania warning her that she might not be back in time for afternoon classes. Missing a few hours wasn't the end of the world, but losing her sanity in this man's arms seemed like a real possibility.
“... Could you let me go?” Her voice came out shaky.
Caroline's heart was beating so hard against her ribs that she feared he could feel the vibrations through his suit.
Everything was going too fast... and that scared her.
It was an intoxicating, new, and dangerous feeling. She had never felt this kind of vertigo with Edward, not even at the height of their relationship.
Perhaps it was the secure familiarity she had with Edward since childhood. But with Nicholas... everything was mystery, magnetism, and a tension that made her knees weak. She wasn't used to this level of overwhelming intimacy.
“No.”
The refusal was simple, accompanied by a low, hoarse laugh that vibrated in his chest. Nicholas reached for her hair, caressing the long strands with a tenderness that contrasted with his strength. His dark eyes overflowed with desire.
“My dear, I like to feel you like this, in my arms.” He leaned in, brushing his lips against her ear. “Don't you like it?”
Caroline bit her lip, unable to respond. Her silence only encouraged him.
“Hmm?” he insisted, his voice dropping an octave. “Do you like it when your husband holds you like this?”
As she remained silent, trying to control her breathing, Nicholas gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look into the depths of those predatory eyes.
“Answer me, Caroline.”
Her face burned scarlet. “Nicholas, I...”
Knock, knock.
Three sharp knocks on the door broke the spell.
“President Wolf,” Bratt's professional voice sounded muffled by the solid wood. “There is an urgent document that requires your personal signature.”
Panic struck Caroline. Instinctively, she pushed against Nicholas's chest, trying to jump off his lap.
But he didn't budge an inch.
Nicholas's steel arms closed around her waist, holding her in place. “Don't move,” he ordered in an authoritative whisper.
Caroline froze, her eyes wide. Was he going to leave her there? In front of an employee?
An almost imperceptible smile curved Nicholas's lips as he saw her shy desperation. Without taking his eyes off his wife, he raised his voice: “Come in.”
The doorknob turned.
Bratt opened the door, striding in, ready to do business. But what he saw made his feet lock onto the carpet.
The scene was shocking, to say the least, by Wolf Company standards.
The dreaded President Wolf, known for his icy coldness and aversion to human contact, was sitting in his leather chair... with the Young Lady nestled possessively in his lap. One of his hands held a document; the other was flat on her waist, claiming her.
Bratt felt his brain short-circuit.
He never, in a million years, imagined seeing this side of his boss.
The Lone Wolf... was having an intimate moment? During business hours? And he wasn't even trying to hide it?