Chapter 34
Menu
I woke early. Ann Maxwell was still asleep. I went down to the restaurant for breakfast. I’d only had a small cake on the yacht last night, and I was starving by 3 AM.
After breakfast, with plenty of time to kill, I wandered around the hotel. It was dripping in nostalgic South Seas charm; a lush tropical garden bustled with life, tall palm trees rustling in the breeze. Standing beneath them, I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun filtering through the leaves. The morning air was so gentle, fragrant with the scent of blossoms.
The world was vibrant, alive, fresh–not at all bleak because I lacked a man or romance.
Then, footsteps approached, shadowing me. A strong masculine scent filled the air. I opened my eyes to a broad chest encased in black athletic wear–well–defined pectoral muscles, glistening collarbones, a strong jawline, and rose–tinted lips…
“Ms. Frost, what’s wrong with your eyes?” He bent down, his low voice a warm tropical breeze on my face.
I snapped back to reality, touching my eyes, taking a step back.“The sun’s too bright. I feel a little dizzy.”
“Keep staring, and you’ll be more than dizzy; you’ll go blind,” he said.
Remembering last night, I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks.“Mr. President, do you jog in the mornings?” I tried to change the subject.
He gave a soft hum, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel. After standing for a moment, he said. unexpectedly, “It was you sneaking a peek on the third deck of the yacht last night, wasn’t it?”
I stared at him. Sneaking a peek? Who was sneaking a peek?
“I wasn’t sneaking! I went up and saw you… uh… you know… and I left immediately. Honestly, I only glanced for a
second.”
“You know… what?” His voice was calm, but the pressure was undeniable.
“…That!” I stammered.
“Be specific.” He insisted.
Cornered, I had no choice but to brazen it out.“Kissing. Passionate kissing. Happy now?”
“You were mistaken,” he said flatly.
Of course, I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t need to argue.“Okay, I was mistaken.” I played along.
He didn’t accept my answer, his brow furrowed.“You don’t believe me?”
“I do, I do!” I nodded rapidly.
“I don’t like kissing, especially with women.”
What?! I felt like I’d stumbled onto a huge secret. His preference was… men? But wasn’t he and Ann Maxwell in some kind of tumultuous relationship? Did he used to like women, and now he likes men?
My mind was completely scrambled.
“In short, I corrected
you because you
were wrong.
There was no kissing. As my secretary, you can’t have these kinds
of misconceptions,” he stated seriously.
