Chapter 350: Unwanted Attention
Emily watched Charles's tense profile, secretly amused but keeping her expression neutral.
They continued walking forward. Just as they reached the elevator bank, another young designer recognized Emily.
The designer approached them excitedly. "Jane? It really is you! I'm Stan—we met at Steinberg Fashion Week last year. Do you remember me?"
Emily nodded politely. "I remember. Hello, Stan."
Stan said enthusiastically, "What a surprise running into you here! There's a designers' gathering tonight—would you like to come? Lots of old friends will be there."
"Sorry, I'm afraid tonight I..."
Before Emily could finish, Charles cut her off. "She already has plans tonight."
His voice was ice-cold, his sharp gaze fixed on Stan.
Stan was intimidated by his commanding presence and laughed awkwardly. "Oh... well, alright then. Maybe another time."
The elevator doors opened, and Charles practically pushed Emily inside.
They were alone in the elevator. Charles pressed the floor button, his expression still stormy.
Emily watched him and deliberately said, "Charles, what's gotten into you? Those two were both fashion industry professionals. There's nothing wrong with networking a bit."
Charles turned to look at her, his eyes smoldering with suppressed anger. "Emily, you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
"Doing what on purpose?" Emily feigned innocence.
Charles took a deep breath. "Deliberately trying to make me jealous."
Emily smiled—a bright, mischievous expression. "Mr. Windsor, you're overthinking this. I was just making normal professional conversation. If anything, isn't your reaction a bit... excessive?"
Charles was left speechless by her retort and could only glare at her.
The elevator reached their floor and the doors opened.
They stepped out into the quiet hallway. But after just a few steps, the door to a room across from them suddenly opened, and a middle-aged man in a bathrobe emerged. When he spotted Emily, his eyes lit up.
"Oh, beautiful lady! Are you staying on this floor? I'm visiting from Frostvik and..."
Charles stepped in front of Emily again, his voice cold as ice. "She's not staying here. Please move aside."
The Frostvik man was startled by his intimidating presence and sheepishly stepped out of the way.
Charles pulled Emily quickly toward his room, swiped his keycard, and practically pushed her inside.
The door closed behind them with a soft click.
The room was quiet, curtains half-drawn, with the last rays of sunset filtering through the gaps and casting warm patches of light on the carpet.
Charles pressed Emily against the wall, his hands braced on either side of her body, trapping her between himself and the wall.
His breathing was slightly labored, his gaze deep and intense, swirling with complex emotions—jealousy, anger, but more than that, long-suppressed longing and possessiveness.
His voice was hoarse. "Emily, do you have any idea how much I wanted to..."
"Wanted to what?"
Emily looked up at him, her gaze clear and unafraid. "Lock me away? Keep anyone else from seeing me?"
Charles was silent for several seconds, then said quietly, "Yes. I want to hide you away where only I can see you."
His honesty caught Emily off guard.
"Charles, you..."
Her words were cut off by Charles's kiss.
This kiss wasn't gentle like before—it carried an almost savage intensity. He kissed her forcefully, as if trying to devour her completely. His tongue parted her lips, tangling with hers, drinking in her sweetness.
Emily was nearly breathless from his kiss, her hands pressed against his chest, trying to push him away, but he only held her tighter.
Charles murmured against her lips, "Emily... you're mine. Only mine."
His kisses moved from her lips to the side of her neck, leaving a trail of burning marks. His hands slipped under her clothes, his movements urgent and rough.
Emily's voice trembled slightly. "Charles... slow down..."
But Charles seemed not to hear. He swept her up in his arms, striding toward the bedroom, and gently placed her on the bed.
Charles stood beside the bed, looking down at her with eyes full of possessiveness and deep affection.
Soon, the room was filled only with their heavy breathing.
"Charles... that's enough..." Emily's voice was already weary. She'd been on a plane for over ten hours and was exhausted to begin with, and now her entire body felt weak.
"Not enough." Charles's voice was rough.
He held her close, shifting to a new position, continuing his tender assault.
This time, Charles's movements were slow and gentle. He kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, whispering in her ear.
Emily wanted to respond, but her consciousness was already fading. She could only feel Charles's tenderness, feel his love, before sinking into darkness.
Emily slept deeply.
After more than ten hours on a plane, she was already exhausted, and the passionate encounter had completely drained what little energy remained. She curled up in Charles's arms, breathing evenly, her sleeping face peaceful.
But Charles remained awake.
He lay on his side, using the soft light from the bedside lamp to quietly watch Emily's sleeping face.
Her lashes were long, casting faint shadows on her eyelids. Her lips were slightly pursed, as if she were having some pleasant dream. Her skin was delicate, glowing with a pearl-like luster in the lamplight.