CHAPTER 56

Lisa's POV

I felt chilly all night long. In the bedroom's closet, I couldn't locate a change of clothing that would work.

Only a pair of t-shirts, which I know are meant for Damien, were available for me to change into.

Fortunately, the shorts and t-shirt I put on underneath my dress yesterday weren't too wet, so I was able to sleep in them.

I was unable to avoid worrying about Damien. Even when I dozed asleep, I was unaware of it.

Last night, he suddenly went rigid. The manner in which he said me goodnight astonished me. We didn't intend to go to bed so early, but since the rain derailed my plans, I suppose it's for the best that we did.

A sweet, mouthwatering aroma passes by my nose as I lay in bed contemplating all that has transpired in our marriage in the previous month, and my stomach immediately begins to grumble.

Food.

I hastily get out of bed and leave the bedroom to find the source of the smell. I am certain that the kitchen will be the only option, and Damien must take responsibility. He would be the one to prepare our lunch today, we decided.

Before heading to the kitchen, I exit the house and can see via the see-through door that it is still pouring.

Wow!

I had no idea it was still pouring. Now that the rain hasn't ceased, how can we go home?

Damien, who is wearing sweatpants and a shirt, nearly runs into me as I make my way to the kitchen.

He rapidly holds my two arms with the words "Hey, careful" in order to prevent me from falling backward.

I smile and say "Good morning" in a pleasant manner.

"Good morning, how was your sleep?" He makes the inquiry in a worried manner. But it fascinates me.

I did, indeed. Just the fact that it's pouring makes me anxious. Will you be able to resume today?

The first door next to the kitchen door is where I gaze outside. With the exception of the covered bedroom, which is why I didn't realize it was still pouring, every opening, window, and door in the home faces the outside, allowing us to view whatever is occurring outside from any point within.

His arms are folded as he shrugs. "I'm not sure yet. If it doesn't stop raining by midday, I'll start working again the next day.

I make a grimace and say, "That's bad."

Damien has probably not taken a vacation for more than a week. He must find it difficult to avoid thinking about or working. He is used to working, and his job permeates every aspect of his life.

He never took a break when I worked as his assistant for a year.

I suppose he is enthusiastic about this, and we all enjoy and find delight in what we are passionate about.

"Not awful at all. Can you go to the living room and wait there? His inquiry shakes me out of my daydream.

"Why? I look at him with an inquiring brow and say, "I came to help out.

Do you recall cooking supper by yourself the other night? He brings to memory. So I don't need any assistance. This is more akin to a contest. With a sly smirk, he says, "If my food tastes good, you might boast to the world that it was nice because you helped out, but if you don't help out and it's nice, then I'll take all the credit."

I quickly giggle and shake my head. He now amazes me, I must say. He has never grinned in such a manner before. This cheeky grin has never been on his face before, so the fact that it is doing so right now, in the kitchen of a chalet house kilometers from our house, is astonishing.

"Mademosse, would you kindly excuse me at this time?" He rushes me outside and closes the wooden door from behind before I have a chance to speak.

I lightheartedly giggle as I make my way to the living room.

I must find a task to keep myself occupied. Going back to the bedroom is not a smart idea since I am quite hungry and I am eager to try the sweet meal I just saw.

When I enter the living room, I see a blanket on the couch where Damien spent the previous night. Measuring through quilt.

The unexpected shift in conduct truly made me want to stop him from sleeping here, but I lacked the guts to do so.

Did he get any rest?

He still needs to recover, therefore he shouldn't be experiencing any difficulties. I'll make sure we sleep in the same bed today if we don't go home, but if that doesn't work out, I'll insist on using the couch tonight.

I have no problem with you sleeping in my bed. After all, we do this at home, so I'm used to it.

I enclose myself in the blanket and inhale the fragrance, attempting to determine whether it belongs to Damien. I don't smell the same cologne around him at home as I do here.

Without figuring it out after some time, I give up and get up. My attention is drawn to the wooden box and DVD player next to the TV as I go over to turn it on using the remote control. When I open the package, I find a lot of my favorite musician's CDs.

Blue.

"Wow!" Before I can control it, the word leaves my tongue. I quickly dump the whole contents of the box, exposing dozens of audio and video cassettes.

Without turning on the television, I insert one of the audio cassettes after picking it up and excitedly shaking off the blanket that is covering me.

I leap up and scream with delight. Along with the musician, I start to dance about while banging my feet on the wooden floor.

I hold a fake microphone in my right hand and pretend to sing into it while dancing about the room, shaking, spinning, and twirling.

I am too caught up in what I am doing to notice that Damien has returned with the meal until he yells my name and looks startled about the disorganized room.

"What is happening?" you ask. I leap in his direction while singing. I ignore the delicious fragrance that is drifting past my nose as I accept the food tray from him. Damien chuckles and can't believe what is happening as I drop it on a little table, take his hand, and spin him around.

We continue to dance this way, with me playing the part of the man spinning the woman—even though I have to do it on my toes because of how tall he is—until the song slows down and his laughter no longer resonates in my ears with the sweetness of the music.

I stop spinning because my hair is all over the place. I had been dancing and bouncing when the hairband came off.

As our dance tempo slows down as well, Damien takes control. His left hand is on my waist, and his right hand is on my shoulder.

My left hand is on his back, and my right is pulling his head toward me till his forehead is resting on mine.

Then, I recall.

We are not a true pair, Damien and I. We shouldn't be acting in this manner since we are just friends.

Our bodies' close contact is causing my body and internal organs to undergo unthinkable changes. I'm holding my breath and shaking with panic as his forehead is pressed against mine, fanning my whole face and neck with his hot, sweet, minty breath.

I get the impression that my crush from a year ago is greater than ever right now. My legs start to tremble under me as a result of his attractive face, sharp nose, sculpted jawline, thick brows, and pink lips that are beckoning to me.

Even if it is intriguing, the vigor and enthusiasm that I felt when I first viewed those audio and video tapes have evaporated into thin air, leaving me with conflicted emotions.

Right now, I wish things were different. I now wish that this was a genuine situation rather than a sham. Now I wish that our connection was normal rather than archaic.

I could see falling in love with him, being engaged to him, and getting married to him, but I know this is all in my head.

Damien will always be my boss, even when we are married. I shouldn't make plans too soon. It doesn't even matter how I feel since Damien is the main focus of this.

To aid him, I am here. I shouldn't complicate matters with my irrational emotions and soft heart.

I should make helping him my top priority. This guy is broken and has lost the ability to love. I may damage myself if I become emotionally invested in him, which would destroy everything.

I don't want this at all.

I want Damien to be content, as much as I would want to make this a reality. As long as we are still bound by our agreement, his pleasure comes first. Now, whatever I should be doing should be driven only by my desire to make him happy.

There shouldn't be any ties to this.

No strings attached, as the contract specifically indicates.

I'm ready to release him so we can turn down the music and eat before the food gets cold.

He pulls me in closer as I struggle to break free of the hold, causing me to gasp in amazement and separate my lips a little.

I give him a wide-eyed gaze, but my disbelief grows as he draws his face closer and touches my nose before taking my lips.