Chapter Five

“Mrs. Georgia, are you jealous?”

He half-smiled knowing his word will rile her up, but instead of resorting to violence like he thought she would, she never responded. Instead, she seems to think through the situation as her expression drifted from confusion to realization and then, accompanied by a loud huff.

“Go to hell, Alexander.” She spat out—her words vicious; leaving no room for whatever pleasure he was trying to introduce.

That was more like it. He expected this response. He knew her reply would be stern, serious, and daring – and how she was still standing courageously and confidently right in front of him even though there was only a sliver of space between them showed how daring she indeed was.

Although, he noticed how stiff she got when he leaned in but in less than a few seconds, she had learned to adjust to it and stand tall just to keep her ego. Other girls couldn't do this—other girls were unable to stand confidently this close – definitely, they must have melted right at their feet. But Ava was different. She was daring and had encompassed every girl he had come in contact with in every way possible, and this was exactly what made her different. He wouldn't come to a conclusion with the terms that he liked her fierce and daring attitude, but he liked it sometimes.

This time, he smirked and looked down at this fragile woman who had been straining her neck the whole time just to look him in the eyes, even though he was already leaning in.

Presumably, she was around 5.2 feet tall, and he was 6.2 feet tall.

The difference in height between the both of them was bewildering, and he is still wondering what could make this little woman so daring despite their height differences.

Subconsciously, his eyes slowly began to roam her body and instantly, he regretted his decision. Oh, shit! His fucking eyes!

So now, what in God's name is she wearing?

A black silk nightgown with thin straps that stopped just on her mid-thigh and fit just right on her pleasantly shaped body? And to top it all, the front was a deep V-plunge neckline that showed a lot of her cleavage.

To every girl, this could be considered as a simple nightgown, and for someone like Ava, he knew she can't possibly put this on to seduce him—unfortunately for whoever the victim would be, she was already doing a number on him.

When did she get this? How did she get this dress? Before she got married to him or after? At least, for someone who came a while ago intending to pull an all-night argument with him for hurting her beloved John – this can't be what she should be wearing to do that.

He knew Ava was his wife and he had every right to look at her the way he pleased, but wouldn't want to put any sought of pressure on her—and as much as he tried to keep his eyes to stay put on her face, his eyes which seems to be moving on their own accord wouldn't oblige to the good thoughts and intention he had for Ava. And of all days, Ava decided to let her blonde hair down just to remind him of her gorgeous she was, or what?

This was a real struggle. Trying so hard to get your eyes fixed on a particular thing, but every cell and vein in your eyes decides to do the exact opposite.

The temperature dipped suddenly, and Ava knew now the outcome of the situation – the outcome of standing so close to someone who probably got drunk at the club. His heavy lustful gaze and the way he looked at her had her forgetting how to breathe. She has been trying so hard to keep her ego in check, but his icy gaze pinning her to a spot had almost knocked the last breath out of her. She should be trying to leave – she should leave before things get out of hand, but she was too damn flustered to do so.

But even until the very end, she wouldn't want to appear like a weakling or act like someone who got affected by their closeness. Taking a second to gather all the courage she could, she warned,

“I'm warning you, do not get anywhere near John,” but surprisingly, her voice was shamefully quiet and embarrassingly stunned that she mentally knocked some senses into her blank brain. Nonetheless, she needed to leave even though her voice failed her – she needed to leave and accept the quilt that she got—defeated. And leaving—she would do.

She gave him a quick glare before taking a step backward—followed by another and just when she turned her back on him to run upstairs, Alexander broke his silence.

“What are you wearing, Mrs. Georgia?” He asked – his tone sounding entirely different from what she has heard before. There was something lighter—yet thick, that mirrored his once-ruffled tone.

What was she wearing? A nightgown, of course. Her mom got it for her a night before her wedding. In other for it not to get wasted on her wardrobe, she decides to wear it that night in acknowledgment of her Mom's gift. Is there something wrong with it?

As she scanned her dress, her eyes almost fell off their sockets when she realized that she wasn't wearing the silked long-sleeved jacket for the gown. Where did it go? Why wasn't she wearing it? This was inappropriate – the gown was way too revealing without the jacket.

She crossed her arms against her chest—feeling embarrassed to her core. It wasn't supposed to end this way. It was meant to be a long night of argument – and to think that she has been standing this exposed in front of him all along made it even worst. The power was no longer in her hands and yes, she has accepted defeat. All the same; she needs to leave immediate…

Alexander hovering presence behind her had cut short whatever line of thought she had. He wasn't saying a word and for whatever reason in the world, she wasn't making any attempt to leave either – too embarrassed to move…? That shouldn't be an excuse – people run away whenever they get embarrassed… right?

Her thoughts wavered, and before she could make a decision for herself, Alexander decided to be crowned the honor. He held her shoulder and spun her around to face him. She was facing him now, chest to chest, as his body pressed into hers. A short gasp left her lips as her breathing became unsteady. A dark smirk lifted unto his lips, and this made him appear intimidating—in the right way.

“Mrs. Georgia,” he began—his hand slowly began to move down her shoulder, “I asked you a question.” finally, it settled on her waist.

She blinked hard, trying her best to control all the emotions that were building in her spine—all of them connecting to his hands on her waist. She bites the inside of her cheek, and as foolishly as she could get, she asked, “what—question was it?”

Alexander arched his brow as his smirk grew even wider. Ava's breath was knocked out of her once again when she felt his grip getting possessive.

“It appears you weren't listening, Mrs. Georgia.”

As soothing as his voice sounder—as soothing as it flushed down her system. Damn! She knew she was listening – she heard his question: how could she have forgotten? This was so embarrassing, and to think that she was too stunned to make an attempt to leave or fight back his strong possessive grip around her waist rang the bell even louder that, defeat ought to be her name.

Knowing that she had never been this intimate with a man before, it is quite understandable why she feels this way toward him.

She bit her lower lips thinking deeply about what his question was – at least, if she could give an answer to his question without having to repeat himself, then it could be a tiny less embarrassing, but she doubts it, with their current state, she doubts if she could think properly.

Alexander watched her intensely as she thoughtfully bit on her lower lips. If only Ava wasn't absentminded, she should have noticed his huge stare on her lips. To everyone, the slightest act of biting one's lips could be considered normal, but when it comes to Ava, it was mad sexy. Fuck!

Dragging his eyes away from her lips, so he wouldn't seem like a lust psycho, he darts his eyes in random directions, but only gets to meet a pair of fucking perfect crystal eyes. Dammit! Why was everything so perfect about her?

Ava almost hissed when his question re-registered in her head. A simple dumbass question as stating the obvious was what she forgot. To begin with, the question doesn't even make any sense to be trapped in this situation.

“What does it look like I'm wearing? A robe?” She replied as sarcastically as she could, trying her best to bury her trembling voice deep down in her throat.

Alexander hummed in response – but it seemed like the sound generating deep down his throat had driven down his hands on her waist, sending a huge shiver down her spine. This is awkward—every damn thing feels awkward and for every reason in the world, she shouldn't be standing there like a dummy. She knew this, but her brain just can't register them.

“Why are you so concerned about me flirting with other girls?”

Not that he cared about her response anyway, 'cause, he was fully aware that there was no way she would be jealous, considering the fact that she had a sweetheart somewhere named John – someone she had made a promise to get back to at all cost. Regardless of their surrounding situation, he wasn't ready to let go of her yet. He would—eventualy. But not now. A moment like this was rare to come by, and at least, it should enjoy it while it lasted.

“Please, be reminded that you are my husband. I won't appreciate any news about my husband cheating on me going about.”

He noticed it—he noticed how hard it was for her to keep a straight face while saying it. He noticed how hard it was for her to keep her composure, and he loved that he was doing a number on her the same way it was for him.

With all words aside, a moment to acknowledge the fact that she just referred to him as her husband. She was already acknowledging him after all.

“Can—you let go of me now, Alexander?”

She needs to breathe – the heavens know that she needed to breathe. They were too close that if she takes a proper breath, their breathing might get mixed up – her breathing has been caught up in her throat ever since and the only way she could breathe fine again was when he gets those hands of his off her waist and let her stand some miles away from him – then, she can breathe.

He didn't reply because he knew he didn't have a response to offer yet. He wasn't willing and ready to let go of her, yet—and so, he took the moment to take an even more close look at her crystal eyes as if, he was searching them. An opportunity to take an intense look at her lovely crystal eyes was what he didn't have two years ago.

He could remember vividly the first time he met Ava: two years back.

The initial thing that caught his attention when his eyes landed on her was her daring crystal eyes and blonde hair. He could remember this cute girl staring deep into his eyes and he instantly got captivated by it.

He knew the main purpose of this marriage was to ensure her safety, but something in him wanted her to be officially his. He has never been this possessive and wanted any girl the same way he wanted Ava – but according to the fate they both had, he couldn't tell of what their outcome would be if Ava eventually become his. He craved for her but at the same time, he was scared – scared that if he has gotten her, things could get even more complicated than it already was. Regardless, Ava was already in his arms, so what's the rush? He could see how flustered she was and how impossibly red she has gotten, but still, teasing her would be the best fun he has gotten on this night which started pretty miserably.

“You should fight your way out. I thought you've always been fierce.”

Ava breathed out, knowing fully well that any attempt to get off his grip would be fruitless. There's no point in trying, knowing fully well that she has lost even before trying.

Her nervous eyes darted off to random places as she sighed. His eyes were not leaving hers and for some weird reason, his deep gaze on her was heating her skin. It felt weird to her, and she didn't like the sought of an effect he was already holding unto her.

With just his left hand holding firmly to her waist, he raised his right hand to her face and lifted her chin with a finger.

“Look at me, Ava.” He began with a bit of demand in his tone. Ava pressed her lips together and summoned up every ounce of courage before lifting her eyes to look him in the eyes, but his next words had shattered even the little courage she had.

“Since you don't want me flirting with other girls. Why don't you satisfy my need then?”

Without letting her process his words, he leaned into her face—making sure there was just an inch of space between them—his hot breath fanning her face and as he raised a brow expecting an answer from her, Ava couldn't help but wonder if that was indeed a question that needed an answer.