Chapter 94
Alexander's POV
Elizabeth's tone was far more indifferent than I'd expected, which annoyed me for reasons I couldn't quite name.
She was the one who'd been wronged, the one who should be reacting. Instead, her reaction seemed to tell me one thing: I couldn't make a single ripple in her heart. She didn't care about me at all.
The realization left me inexplicably irritated.
What was that reaction supposed to mean?
"Elizabeth, what are you thinking?" By the time I registered what I was doing, the words had already left my mouth.
Elizabeth looked up at me, confusion clear in those bright eyes of hers.
"What do you mean? I don't understand." She was simply stating her thoughts, but that even more indifferent tone only made my irritation spike.
Did she expect me to spell it out?
The words were right there, but I couldn't get them past my lips.
I stared at her, then suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist, yanking her toward me.
"You used to be a socialite from a wealthy family. Now people are pointing fingers at you, and you don't care?"
I could see Elizabeth press her lips together, that defiant expression flickering across her face as if she wanted to argue back immediately.
But just as quickly, that sharp look faded, replaced by something more compliant.
"Mr. Windsor, this is the office. I have to consider everything around me when I act."
Her words were reasonable, as if I were the one being unreasonable.
I frowned, that nameless fire continuing to build inside me. With a sharp tug, I pushed her away.
Elizabeth didn't have time to react. Her feet slipped, and she fell straight backward.
Panic flooded through me. I rushed forward and caught her around the waist.
In an instant, the distance between us vanished.
Elizabeth was securely in my arms, her face flushing red.
Watching her change, the dissatisfaction in my chest slowly began to ease.
Blushing in front of me—she didn't look like someone who didn't care about me at all.
Realizing this, the irritation that had been gnawing at me seemed to smooth out a little.
Elizabeth was in my arms, and I could feel her hands clutching at my shirt, uncertain what to do.
"Um..." Her soft voice drifted to me. Whether it was because we were so close or something else, Elizabeth's voice seemed even more pleasant than usual.
I didn't let go of her.
Elizabeth's tone slowed, hesitant. "I'm standing now. Aren't you going to let me go?"
Only then did I slowly release her.
Not wanting Elizabeth to see my unusual state, I quickly looked away.
Fortunately, Elizabeth's attention wasn't on me, and she didn't say anything.
"Mr. Windsor, I think we need to clarify something." Elizabeth suddenly spoke, her tone more serious than I'd ever heard.
I frowned and turned to look at her.
"What do you mean?"
"Even though we have to maintain appearances on the surface, it's better if we keep our distance in private."
As her words landed, I finally understood what her tension and hesitation were about.
She thought we were getting too close, so she felt the need to say this.
"Keep our distance? You think we're close?"
I forced down my displeasure and looked down at her. "Elizabeth, do I matter to you?"
Elizabeth stepped back several paces, panic and unease written across her face. "No, not at all."
"Then why won't you look at me?"
For every half-step she retreated, I moved half a step closer, constantly closing the distance between us.
Elizabeth was gradually backed against the wall, her entire body pressed against it.
"Don't!" She pressed her hand against my chest, her expression more flustered than ever.
Seeing her wear that expression, I looked at her with amusement.
If she truly didn't care at all, Elizabeth couldn't possibly react this way.
So there was only one answer.
When she was in front of me, she was more nervous than usual.
"Let's not talk about this anymore." Elizabeth didn't even dare to lift her head, hurriedly trying to change the subject.
I smiled. "Fine, I don't care about it anyway."
As I turned to leave, I could feel her gaze remain fixed on my back.
Elizabeth did care about me after all.
"Go ahead with your work." I waved my hand and heard the sound of the door closing behind me before I looked back.
Elizabeth had left, but the room seemed to carry a trace of her fragrance.
I'd never paid attention to these things before, but now it appeared so vividly before me.
It wasn't just Elizabeth who cared about me—I was also, consciously or unconsciously, caring about her.
Simply confirming each other's interest seemed insufficient. Somewhere deep in my heart, I found myself craving more.
At noon, I went to her office on my own initiative.
When Elizabeth saw me, her expression reflexively turned panicked.
"Mr. Windsor? Is there something you need?" She asked politely, deliberately maintaining her distance from me.
I pretended not to notice her nervousness and walked up to her.
"There's a restaurant nearby with pretty good food. Want to go?"
After making the straightforward invitation, Elizabeth was clearly hesitant, but under my gaze, she still nodded.
"Alright, it's rare for Mr. Windsor to invite me to lunch."
She simply tidied up the things on her desk and stood beside me, yet still maintained a distance of about one step.
This distance was just right—not so close as to be overly intimate, yet not distant enough to seem cold.
"You know what to do once we're outside." I deliberately looked at her and spoke in a low voice.
I saw Elizabeth tense up a little.
I deliberately quickened my pace by two steps, and Elizabeth hurried to follow behind me.
As we walked out of the office, she linked her arm through mine.
It was break time now, and most employees were preparing to go to lunch.
The time with the largest flow of people was the most noticeable.
When everyone looked at us, they saw Elizabeth openly holding my arm, saw how intimate we appeared.
This was perfect.
I led her toward the private elevator. From this height, I could clearly see all her subtle expressions.
Elizabeth was nervous about actively getting close to me.
The arm she held transmitted warmth—Elizabeth's body heat.
I didn't continue looking at her.
She instinctively reached to press the button for the underground parking garage, but I stopped her in time.
"The restaurant is right near the office. We can just walk there."
Elizabeth's expression froze completely on her face, looking at me in utter disbelief.
"Walk there? But there will be a lot of people on the street. More people will see us together."
I responded with a deliberately calm acknowledgment.
Of course—if we took the car, it would just be private time for the two of us.
And Elizabeth wouldn't have any reason to continue staying close to me like she was now.
That feeling wasn't what I wanted. So I wanted to walk to the restaurant with her openly and legitimately.