Chapter 119

Isabella leaned in, her lips parted expectantly. "Kiss me, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel's gaze traced the delicate curve of her flushed cheeks. Unlike Harrison's sharp, angular features, Isabella possessed a soft, youthful beauty that seemed to glow under the dim lighting. Where Harrison constantly challenged him with her stubbornness, Isabella was refreshingly compliant - a warm presence that never failed to soothe his temper.

His head dipped lower...

Across town, Harrison and Rosalind had just finished their drinks at The Velvet Lounge. They stepped onto the crowded sidewalk, scanning the street for available cabs.

The nightlife district was packed, making taxis scarce.

Harrison had an idea. "Rosalind, let's just grab those rental bikes."

Rosalind smirked. "No need. I'll call my cousin to pick us up."

"Cousin?" Harrison blinked. "Since when do you have family in Willowbrook?"

Rosalind winked mysteriously. "Since always."

"It's late though. Don't trouble him."

But Rosalind was already dialing. "He's out with his mistress anyway. Might as well make himself useful."

Harrison gasped. "Your cousin has a mistress?"

"Married man playing house with some gold-digger." Rosalind rolled her eyes. "Total scumbag."

Harrison froze. The story sounded painfully familiar - another woman trapped in a loveless marriage, just like her.

Back in the private lounge, Nathaniel had closed the distance between them. Isabella could practically taste the expensive whiskey on his breath.

His masculine scent enveloped her, making her knees weak. She wound her arms around his neck, anticipating the kiss.

Instead, Nathaniel's deep voice rumbled. "Your lipstick's bleeding."

Isabella's eyes flew open.

A phone rang, shattering the moment. Nathaniel reached for his device, gently disentangling himself to answer.

Frustrated, Isabella grabbed her compact from her Chanel clutch. Sure enough, her earlier touch-up had smeared at the corners. She dabbed furiously at the mistake.

Nathaniel strode to the panoramic windows. "Gabrielle."

Isabella's breath hitched. Gabrielle was calling?

She strained to hear the conversation but caught only Nathaniel's calm response. "Understood. I'll arrange transportation immediately."

As he hung up, Isabella pressed herself against his back, her hands roaming his sculpted torso. She wanted to reclaim their interrupted moment.

Nathaniel removed her hands firmly. His expression cooled. "Raincheck. Falcon Enterprises needs me. My driver will take you home."

Isabella's face fell. Though she tried to hide it, disappointment flooded her. But Nathaniel's demeanor had already shifted to detached professionalism. The moment was lost.

Her gaze dropped to the floor, humiliation burning her cheeks. Men like Nathaniel demanded perfection. One flaw, and their interest evaporated. Just like that night at Rosewood Manor when he'd walked away despite obvious desire. His body remembered the rejection even if his mind didn't.