Chapter 276
Nathaniel stopped walking. “Ms. Delacroix is certainly accomplished, but I dislike women who cling to me. Chasing after someone relentlessly gives the impression of a desperate puppy.”
He pulled his wrist from her grasp and walked off. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his wrist clean before tossing it into a nearby trash bin. The gesture was cold, dismissive, utterly devoid of warmth.
Vivienne stood there, her face pale with humiliation. Did Nathaniel just compare her to a dog? She had lowered her pride to pursue him, and this was his response? How could there ever be a romance if she didn't make the first move?
He was deliberately making things difficult for her, insulting her openly. It didn't matter that his parents approved of her. It didn't matter that she visited their home for hours every day. Nathaniel remained completely indifferent.
Inside the storage room…
Isabella was equally confused. Had she just witnessed Nathaniel being cold to another woman? His method of rejection sounded strangely familiar, reminiscent of how she had once rejected him…
After collecting herself, a dejected Vivienne stepped into the elevator. Once she was gone, Oliver cracked the door open and whispered excitedly, “Daddy! Daddy! Come quick! Mommy was so moved by what you did! She wants to marry you now!”
Isabella was baffled.
Since when had she said that?
It was too late. Nathaniel turned and looked directly at her. She hadn't even had a moment to school her expression. Her face probably did look somewhat… touched.
Nathaniel began walking toward her, each step deliberate. Oliver vanished instantly, disappearing like a wisp of smoke.
Isabella was stunned.
Did her own son just betray her like that?
She tried to step out of the room, but Nathaniel was already inside, closing the door behind him. The storage room was small, only a few square meters, crammed with bookshelves. The space felt cramped and confined. His large, imposing frame made the atmosphere instantly intense.
Isabella raised an eyebrow. “You don’t actually believe the words of a five-year-old, do you?”
“Of course not,” Nathaniel replied, his voice deep and resonant.
Isabella sighed in relief. “Good. Then let me pass. I’m leaving.”
Instead of moving, he swept her up into his arms and placed her firmly on a small table against the wall.
Her heart hammered against her ribs. A flush crept up her neck. “What are you doing? Don’t you dare do what I think you’re about to do, or I won’t be responsible for my actions!” She cracked her knuckles menacingly for emphasis.
Nathaniel remained utterly unfazed. “Don’t move,” he commanded, his voice a low, serious warning.
His large, cool hands settled on her upper arms. He applied gentle pressure, his palms slowly sliding down the length of her arms, over her wrists, and then carefully, deliberately, he began tracing each of her fingers.
A jolt, like an electric shock, shot through Isabella. His touch was cool and deliberate, and every inch of skin he contacted made her nerves sing with tension.
She hadn’t been this close to a man in years. No man had touched her like this. Yet here was Nathaniel, methodically touching her arms, caressing each of her fingers…
She should have punched him immediately. But he wasn’t exactly taking liberties; his actions were oddly clinical. Frozen on the table, she could only watch. “Nathaniel,” she gasped, “what are you trying to do?!”
His large hands moved down and settled firmly on her thighs.