Sarah jolted awake from the sting, her eyes shimmering with a dazed, watery look.
She frowned slightly. “Why do you often bite me?”
Holden gave a sly grin. “Bite me back, then.”
Sarah hesitated for a second.
Even though the alcohol clouded her judgment, she still had enough sense to remember who she was dealing with-this guy could dock her pay.
With a small frown, she murmured, “Where should I bite you?”
Holden’s eyes darkened, his thoughts wandering to places better left unsaid. He tilted her chin up with a light squeeze. “What do you think?”
Sarah grabbed his wrist and lowered her head, sinking her teeth into his finger.
Holden’s hands were long and elegant, with well-defined knuckles-hands that looked like they belonged to someone who played piano, and indeed, he was skilled with instruments.
As her soft lips brushed against his fingertip, a tingle of sharp, delicate pain ran through him. His gaze grew darker, with a hint of something almost dangerous simmering beneath the surface.
Sarah clung to his wrist for a moment, then, before she knew it, drifted back to sleep.
******
The next morning, Sarah woke up with a pounding headache.
She groaned, realizing she shouldn’t have drunk that much last night. Her alcohol tolerance was terrible, and now she was paying the price-waking up with a splitting headache.
The faint scent of wood lingered in the air, familiar and comforting. She opened her eyes.
Holden lay beside her, wearing a black silk pajama set with two buttons undone, revealing a sliver of toned muscle and his sharp collarbone.
For a brief moment, Sarah felt lightheaded. The sight triggered a fleeting thought-if only she could touch him.
Unfortunately, her hands always moved faster than her brain. Before she could think twice, her fingers reached out and grazed his collarbone.
The next second, Holden’s eyes snapped open.
Sarah, pretending to be puzzled, muttered, “Huh… How are there mosquitoes in winter?”
Holden, also dealing with a hangover, pressed his fingers to his temple. His stomach churned slightly from the whiskey, and he let out a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah? Where’s the mosquito?”
“Gone,” Sarah said innocently.
Holden grabbed her hand, the one resting on his collarbone, and pinned it down. “I think you’re the mosquito.”
Mosquito-Sarah didn’t dare argue.
It was still early, and Holden just wanted to sleep a little longer. Moments like these, when he actually felt like sleeping, were rare. Normally, he struggled with insomnia and woke up at the crack of dawn.
Maybe Sarah had some kind of magic, because for once, he felt genuinely drowsy.
Sarah, on the other hand, was tempted to get up. When she used to live alone, mornings were just a hassle-she hated waking up early since she had to make her own breakfast.
But living here, with Holden’s housekeeper whipping up delicious breakfasts every day, mornings suddenly felt much more appealing.
She wiggled a bit under the blanket, trying to sneak out of bed without making a sound.
Unfortunately, every little movement on the bed was painfully obvious. Just as she shifted slightly, Holden’s hand landed firmly on her shoulder.
“Don’t move.”
The sheer robe she had draped over her shoulders slipped halfway down, leaving her delicate shoulders exposed. Holden’s large hand covered them entirely, his touch possessive and heavy.
Although Sarah was slender, her breasts were quite plump, and the strapless dress barely covered her, making her look more sexy.
She reached up, intending to pull the dress higher for a bit of dignity, but before she could, Holden grabbed her hand.
“Don’t move,” he said.
Sarah gave up.
Fine. With the way Holden acted all aloof, if he had any real thoughts about her, he would’ve made a move by now. He didn’t care whether she was beautiful or not; all he cared about was whether she could lull him to sleep.
Her looks meant absolutely nothing to him.
After a while, Sarah noticed something off and asked, “You’re looking kind of pale. Not feeling well?”
Holden kept his eyes closed. “Stomach hurts.”
Sarah hesitated. “Want me to rub it for you?”
Holden didn’t respond.
Just as she was about to say something else, he reached over and covered her mouth, his fingers slipping past her lips.
Though she had no memory of what had happened last night, the way he touched her felt strangely erotic. Sarah pushed his hand away and obediently shut her mouth.
“Just sleep,” Holden muttered in a low voice beside her ear.
They both slept until noon.
During lunch, Sarah was busy on her phone, texting back and forth with Director Colby to sort out when she would join the production. There were borrowed outfits and jewelry she had to return, plus a few business events, a variety show interview, and a commercial shoot to squeeze in.
But for now, something else was more pressing.
She slowly cut a piece of salmon and glanced at Holden, who sat across from her, eating salad with his usual poker face.
The table was filled with raw dishes and cold appetizers. No wonder the guy’s stomach hurt.
He better live a long life if he keeps eating like this, Sarah thought.
She went to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a packet of stomach remedies. After making it with hot water, she handed it to Holden.
Holden took the cup and gave her a look.
“It’s safe to drink,” Sarah said.
For some reason, her words amused him, and he chuckled softly before taking a sip.
That afternoon, Sarah had a commercial shoot she couldn’t be late for, so she left early.
As soon as she was gone, Holden set the half-finished remedy down. He had always hated taking medicine-he despised the taste.
Just then, Butler Ted appeared and asked, “Young Master, do you think our Lady is pretty great?”
Holden gave him a look. “What you really want to ask is whether I’ve fallen for her.”
Caught, Butler Ted chuckled sheepishly.
Holden’s tone was flat. “That question doesn’t matter. She’s married to me, so she’s mine.”
Butler Ted was speechless.
I didn’t hear you saying she was yours a year ago, Ted thought. Back then, you didn’t even want her living here, let alone seeing her. You treated her like some beggar you couldn’t be bothered with.
Of course, Ted was too smart to say any of this out loud. Instead, he replied smoothly, “But Young Master, you know she’s still deeply in love with her childhood sweetheart.”
At the mention of the “childhood sweetheart,” Holden’s expression immediately darkened.
He had been wanting to get rid of Ronald, that little punk, for a long time. But the idea of such a pathetic man being his rival made Holden feel disgusted.
What bothered him more was the fact that Sarah seemed to care more about Ronald than about him.
If he killed Ronald, Sarah wouldn’t obediently stay with him-she’d probably end up hating him instead.
And most importantly, Holden didn’t want Sarah to see who he really was deep down.
When it came to Sarah, he wanted her to come to him on her own, to turn to him whenever she needed someone.
Holden’s voice turned cold. “Oh? She loves that idiot with an IQ of fifty?”
Butler Ted knew that if he kept pushing, he wouldn’t get the chance to tend to the garden tomorrow-he’d probably end up as fertilizer for it.
Honestly, all men in love were the same. They just had to boost themselves up while tearing their rivals down.
After a moment of hesitation, Butler Ted added, “Back in the day, Mr. Thomas was a lot like you.”
“I’m not him,” Holden said flatly. “He’s not as good as me.”
Butler Ted knew there was no fault in Holden’s words. Among the younger generation of the Smith family, no one matched Holden’s intelligence and capability.
Still, Butler Ted’s gaze held concern. Over the years, he had seen too many twists and tragedies within the Smith family. He’d witnessed two young masters come and go, and just when things seemed to head toward a happy ending, everything would collapse beyond repair in the blink of an eye.
As the butler, the most he could do was offer a warning.
Holden paused briefly as he passed by Ted. “His methods are pathetic. I’ll only stoop that low if I have no other choice.”