Chapter 38: I’ll Teach You Korean
Julian’s fingers paused over the keyboard. The little mole had gotten bold—waltzing into his study with a tray and settling opposite him like she belonged there.
Cora took a bite, looked up…and met his gaze. She scrambled, swapped to a fresh spoon, and lifted a sip of soup to his mouth.
She was going to feed him?
Amusement flickered in his eyes. So, she’d decided to charm her way into getting what she wanted. Korean lessons, presumably.
Cora waited, spoon hovering, eyes bright and stubborn. Julian’s lashes dipped; he leaned in and drank.
Encouraged, she spooned him another taste, then a bite of this, a bite of that—quiet, careful, almost domestic. When she finally worked up the nerve to speak, he lowered his head… and resumed typing.
Cora swallowed the words. Fine. Eat first, try again later.
“Soup,” Julian said suddenly.
She blinked. “Huh?”
His glance dropped to the bowl in front of her. Oh. Right. He wanted more.
Do you not have hands? She griped internally, but she still lifted her spoon and fed him again.
He noticed. The corner of his mouth ticked, and he took another slow sip from her spoon. “More.”
She obeyed. Then he picked up his phone.
“Where’s the revised Tenghua acquisition plan? I said redo it.”
A beat later: “Who approved this styling? It’s atrocious.”
Silence, then, almost pleasantly: “Tell your GM he can collect his pension tomorrow.”
Cora shut her mouth and finished her plate, dignity in tatters. So much for negotiating. She slid to the sofa with her beginner’s handbook and started practicing under her breath. “Ahn-nyang ha-say-yo… kam-sa… oppa, sa-rang-hae-yo…”
Julian’s typing halted. He looked up to find her eyes squeezed shut, mangling vowels like they’d wronged her in a past life. Stubborn little thing—clearly desperate to ask, equally determined not to.
He stood, crossed the room, and plucked the book from her hands, tossing it aside.
“Who taught you those sounds?” he asked—in crisp, flawless Korean. “Embarrassing. Come here. We’re fixing this.”
Cora stared. He’s…going to teach me? Now? Perfect. All she wanted was permission not to speak this weekend. Why couldn’t he just—
No chance. He was already beside her, large and impossibly close, switching to English only to command, “Repeat after me.”
She did. Painfully. Ten minutes in, their shoulders were almost touching. Fifteen minutes, and he caught her hand, guiding her finger across the lines and curves she swore looked identical.
“Focus,” he murmured, heat brushing her temple. “I’ve never seen anyone this slow. This line means—”
They both felt it at once—the jolt where his palm closed around her fingers.
Cora snatched her hand back like she’d been burned. Blood rushed to her face; her pulse tripped and stuttered.
Julian’s throat worked, an unsteady swallow that betrayed his own spike of temper—and something that wasn’t temper at all.
“I’m… hopeless,” she blurted. “I’ll just study alone.”
She shot to her feet and fled before he could answer.
Julian watched her go, eyes darkening—and then, despite himself, the faintest smile curved his mouth.
—
Cora sat on the edge of her bed, breath ragged. Get a grip. He was a transaction, a contract, a temporary ring. You don’t catch feelings for the man who bought your marriage.
Ten repetitions of that mantra later, she exhaled and reached for the lamp.
The door opened.
Julian stepped in, undoing the top buttons of his shirt as he came.
For a second, her brain short-circuited—clean lines of chest and the hint of a deep V cutting down into the waistband of his trousers. She swallowed hard.
“I—I was about to sleep,” she said, too fast.
“Changing,” he replied lazily, already crossing to the dressing room.
Right. Not that. Obviously.
“Going out?” she managed.
He turned away, broad back a study in lethal symmetry as he pulled a fresh suit from the rack. “A meeting.”
Relief loosened her spine. Good. Leave. Breathe.
He reappeared minutes later, tailored and radiant, the kind of handsome that made rooms hush. “You had something to say?”
Cora cleared her throat. “Um… don’t drink too much. And come back early.”
Simple words. They landed with unexpected weight. He nodded, almost gentle. “Noted.”
He started for the door, then paused. “Do you want to come with me?”
She blinked, caught flat-footed, heartbeat skating to a stop.