Joyce Monroe had absolutely no memory of what happened after getting drunk on her birthday, so of course, she didn’t remember kissing Silas Thorne.
But he was just too close right now.
His scent invaded her space, and combined with her guilty conscience, it sent her heart spiraling out of control, beating faster and faster…
Her eyes darted away, not daring to meet his gaze.
Her line of sight drifted down unconsciously, only to land on his lips.
Thin.
Red, and moist.
They looked very kissable.
“If my lips were poisonous, you wouldn’t still be alive,” Silas Thorne said, his voice gentle.
“I don’t remember anything about that night,” Joyce Monroe said, looking away.
“Forgot?
That doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
Silas Thorne stared at her intently, his gaze seeming to have been steeped in wine until it carried a scalding heat.
As it landed on Joyce Monroe’s face, a blush burned its way onto her cheeks.
A breeze swept in through the car window, gusting wildly inside the vehicle.
The rain had just stopped, and the night air was thick with summer heat and humidity.
Yet his gaze was so fervent that it felt almost sticky and damp where it landed on her skin.
Joyce Monroe tried to shift back and create some distance, but there was nowhere to retreat.
Her fingers, resting on her knees, tightened slightly.
“I only said I don’t remember, I didn’t deny it.
Besides…”
“We already kissed, so what do you plan to do about it?”
“You sound rather bold,” Silas Thorne chuckled.
“Do you think that just because you have Kian to back you up, you can act so fearlessly?
That I wouldn’t dare do anything to you?”
Feeling guilty, Joyce Monroe offered, “How about I give you some financial compensation?”
“Do I look like I need money?”
“Then what do you want?”
“Anything?”
Silas Thorne’s gaze seemed to carry a searing temperature.
It roamed over her face, inch by inch, slow and deliberate, until her skin burned with a heat that wouldn’t subside.
‘Could it be…?’
‘Does he want to kiss me back?’
Closer.
Closer and closer.
So close that Joyce Monroe could even feel the warm breath from his nose, invading her space bit by bit, scalding her skin.
The distance between them shrank relentlessly.
Panicked, Joyce Monroe could only hug the flowers in her arms tighter.
The pearlescent paper wrapping the bouquet RUSTLED as she crumpled it beyond recognition in her grip.
The two men in the front seat kept their expressions neutral, but their hearts were already pounding with wild excitement:
‘Are they really going to kiss?’
Felix Dalton even wondered if he should pull over and get out to give them some space.
But then, Joyce Monroe suddenly raised a hand and covered her own mouth.
Her action made Silas Thorne burst out laughing.
His breath, punctuated by his laughter, fell in light and heavy puffs against the back of her hand.
“Why cover your mouth?
Did you think I was going to kiss you?”
“Relax.
Even if I were actually drunk, my behavior isn’t that poor.”
His teasing tone was clearly mocking her for her own poor drunken behavior.
Frustrated, Joyce Monroe lowered her hand to retort, “I…”
But before she could finish, he spoke again in that same gentle voice, “Besides, kiss you back?
Who knows if that would end up being you compensating me, or me being taken advantage of again.”
That was even more infuriating.
“Take advantage of you?” Joyce Monroe met his gaze.
“That was my first kiss, so it’s not like you…
got the short end of the stick.”
But since she had been the one to cross the line first, she lacked confidence as she said it.
‘First kiss?’
Silas Thorne’s fingers tightened slightly, but his expression remained unchanged as he said, “No wonder you bit my lip until it bled.
Turns out you were just inexperienced.”
Joyce Monroe glared at him resentfully.
“I’m sure I’m not as experienced as you, Mr.
Thorne.
After all, you have so many female ‘confidantes’.”
Quentin Walsh and Felix Dalton subconsciously held their breath.
‘She’s really got some nerve!’
‘Female confidantes?’ Quentin Walsh secretly glanced at his boss.
‘I’ve been his assistant for so many years, how come I’ve never heard of any?
Is the boss really that secretive?’
Her words only made the smile on Silas Thorne’s lips deepen.
Joyce Monroe turned her head away, not wanting to deal with him anymore.
“You sound a little jealous.”
“I am not.”
“You don’t have to feel like you lost out.
That night…
was my first kiss, too,” he said, his voice husky and gentle.
Joyce Monroe snapped her head back to look at him, instinctively retorting, “Your first kiss?
How is that possible?
Years ago, I personally saw you get…”
But under his gaze, she obediently shut her mouth.
Quentin Walsh and Felix Dalton both perked up their ears.
‘There’s gossip!’
‘What happened to the Second Master?’
‘Keep talking!’
‘First kiss?
He’s a man in his thirties with an unforgettable love in his heart.
He just lied to Grandma about being drunk, and now he’s trying to trick me into believing he’s never been kissed.
He’s so full of schemes.’
“Why’d you stop talking?”
Silas Thorne smiled faintly, but his eyes held a clear threat:
‘Say one more word, and you’ll regret it!’
“It’s nothing.
I was just a little surprised that someone your age still has their first kiss,” Joyce Monroe said with a sheepish laugh.
“I’ve always conducted myself with propriety.
Your brother is well aware of this.”
Those eyes of Silas Thorne’s could look at a dog with affection, as if to say:
Besides her,
There has never been anyone else.
After speaking, he straightened up and returned to his seat.
Perhaps feeling unwell from the alcohol, he closed his eyes to rest.
Just then, it started raining again outside.
When the window was closed, the air conditioning washed over them, dispelling some of the heat from Joyce Monroe’s face and clearing her head considerably.
She regulated her breathing and turned her head to look out the window.
Come to think of it, she had never heard her brother mention Silas ever dating anyone.
If Silas Thorne truly had so many female confidantes and led a disreputable private life, her brother, with his personality, would never have agreed to them registering their marriage, let alone encouraged them to cultivate their relationship.
‘So who is this unforgettable love of his?’
She had only overheard someone mention it by chance when she was in Northgate, but she never learned a specific name.
‘Could it be…?’
‘That a man with a face like Silas Thorne’s is carrying a torch for someone in secret?’
‘Saving his first kiss for her and everything.’
‘So pure.’
She’d heard that this unforgettable love had a pair of willow-leaf eyes similar to her own.
She wondered just how similar they were, for it to be enough to make Silas Thorne willingly take his older brother’s place and marry her.
‘So you just find a substitute when you can’t get the real thing?
Is that the game he’s playing?’
“Joyce,” Silas Thorne said suddenly.
“Hm?”
“You owe me something.”
“When did I ever owe you anything?”
“You just asked if I wanted financial compensation.
I refused, so I’ll choose a different form of compensation instead.”
Joyce Monroe was exasperated.
‘How did I end up owing him compensation out of nowhere?
I feel like I’ve been led into a trap.’
‘Black-hearted!
Bastard!’
“Then what do you want, Mr.
Thorne!” she asked, her tone somewhat grudging.
Silas Thorne didn’t answer.
The car was driving through a shopping district, and he gestured for Felix Dalton to stop, telling Quentin Walsh to go buy him a caramel drink.
Joyce Monroe couldn’t help but grumble inwardly:
‘Is he saying the caramel drink from our place isn’t good enough?
He’s so difficult!’
Joyce Monroe felt like she’d been tricked.
Not wanting to engage with Silas Thorne, she just looked down and played on her phone while they waited.
About ten minutes later, Quentin Walsh got back in the car.
He was holding a shopping bag and another bag with the logo of a dessert shop.
He turned and handed them to Silas Thorne, and a second later, the dessert bag appeared in front of Joyce Monroe.
“What’s this?” Joyce Monroe asked suspiciously.
“The cheesecake you like.”
Joyce Monroe did indeed love the cheesecake from this particular shop.
She smiled and looked at Silas Thorne.
“My brother really is meticulous.
He tells you everything.”
Silas Thorne didn’t say a word.
“What made you think of buying me a cake?”
“You said earlier you were in a bad mood.”
Joyce Monroe froze.
‘So, he had someone buy this cake specifically to cheer me up?’
She pressed her lips together and said, “Thank you.”
“Mr.
Thorne, you’re pretty good at cheering up girls with cake.”
“I’ve never had to cheer anyone up before.”
“Who’d believe that.”
Quentin Walsh suddenly laughed.
“The Second Master is telling the truth.
Outsiders would never dare get angry with him, and if the younger family members get upset, one look from our Second Master is enough for them to cheer themselves up.”
Joyce Monroe was stunned.
‘One look?’
‘Isn’t that just a threat?’
“Feeling better now?” Silas Thorne asked, looking at her.
“Mhm.”
“Can I make my request now?”
“What is it?
Go ahead and ask.” Having received her favorite little cake, Joyce Monroe was in a good mood.
“Would you consider…
with me…”
“Turning this act into reality.”