Page 45 of My Ruthless Husband

All that I’d learned left me feeling deeply impressed and proud. Knowing everything he’d overcome only made my feelings for him grow stronger. So when I realized his office wasn’t far from my campus, I took a leap and asked him to meet me. It wouldn’t be a big hassle for him to stop by, and I had made up my mind: if he made any excuse not to come, I’d let it go. I’d stop bothering him altogether. Forcing my feelings onto him wouldn’t be fair. Not to him and certainly not to me.

So when Damian agreed to come, I was thrilled. Hence, I called it a date in my head.

“I’m really glad you could make it. I thought it would be nice to catch up,” I break the silence because Damian staring at me is making me fidgety.

When he just grunts in response, I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit nervous. I… umm… didn’t expect you to bring company.”

It’s super awkward because while we are sitting, Hal just hovers in the background, standing guard.

He nods at Hal and he immediately leaves to stand where he won’t be seen but can guard Damian. I start to protest—it’s rude to dismiss someone like that but they both ignore me.

“He goes everywhere with me,” Damian says, explaining his presence.

“Right. Well, anyway, how have you been?”

He quirks his dark brow. “We just talked this morning.”

That makes me chuckle. “But a lot can happen in a few hours, you know.”

“You’re not wrong.” His eyes dance with amusement and I find myself smiling at him. Then I’m momentarily stumped when Hal returns to our table.

“Raspberry White Mocha with a dash of almond essence, paired with a Chocolate Chip Muffin for Ms. Gibson.” He sets them in front of me. “Black Americano with an extra shot of espresso for Mr. Montgomery.”

“Thanks, Hal.” Damian nods.

How in the world did he figure out my favorite caffeine fix and that I’ve got a secret weakness for chocolate chip muffins? I’m still gawking at his retreating back when Damian speaks, “Eyes on me, angel.”

My heart skips a beat. A smile automatically spread across my face, and I could feel my cheeks turning warm.

He used that endearment often but hearing it again in person does something to me. It feels like a rush of warmth has flooded my senses. It’s strange how a single word can have that effect on you, especially when it comes from someone you care about deeply.

“Why are you smiling?” He asks and I shrug, feeling shy.

He leans forward. “Tell me.”

“I love it when you call me angel,” I say softly.

His jaw relaxes and it makes me question why he was pissed before. “You mad at me?”

He ignores my question. “Don’t stare at my bodyguard.”

I shake my head vehemently. “I wasn’t. Actually, I was shocked because—” My eyes widen when I realize something. “Are you jealous, Damian?”

And in that instant, it hit me—Damianwasinto me. Instead of irrupting with joy, I try to test him.

“Sorry I didn’t realize I was staring. I just couldn’t help it.” I stifle my smile.

“You couldn’t help it?” He asks, leaning back in a falsely calm posture.

Fighting butterflies, I nod. “He’s good looking.”

“He is around my age, River,” he drawls in a tone that suggests he is barely holding back his anger.

“I can tell.” I turn my head in his direction for good measure all while my legs are trembling. I haven’t done this before. Never tried to make anyone jealous before. It’s not something I ever thought I would do. Not to mention with the man as intense as Damian Montgomery.

“I’m sure there are plenty of guys your age fawning over you. So stop eyeing men who are much older than you,” he says in a neutral tone. But I know it’s just a front.

I know him now. We’ve spent hours talking, almost every day, for months. I know how he sounds when he is irritated. I know how he talks when he is curious. I can tell how his tone changes when he is excited about his on-going projects. And it’s rare, but I have even heard the disappointment in his voice whenever something went against his plans.

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