Lambert's heart violently stuttered. He couldn't handle her looking at him like that.
But he couldn't tear his eyes away either. He silently prayed she wouldn't do anything reckless, that she would just sit there and be good...
Before the thought even finished forming, she made her move.
Still staring at him with those wide, sad eyes, she suddenly lunged forward and grabbed him by the throat.
Lambert flinched back on instinct.
That made her instantly furious. Unable to get a proper grip on his neck, she didn't hesitate—she swung a leg over his lap and straddled him, lunging for his throat once again.
This time, he didn't dodge.
The second her weight settled over his lap, his brain short-circuited.
He had been a paragon of restraint his entire life. Every single boundary he had ever crossed, every moment of indulgence, had been solely with her. On the yacht, and during her last drunken episode, she had been the one to initiate.
And tonight was no different.
Did this woman have any idea she was playing with fire? How dare she straddle a man like this? Did she comprehend the danger she was putting herself in?
The exact spot she was pressing down on...
In a split second, Lambert felt like he was going to spontaneously combust. He didn't even care about her delicate hands squeezing his neck.
She might as well just strangle him to death. What else was he supposed to do? He was utterly defenseless against her when she was like this.
His hands shot up to grip her waist.
She was so slender he could easily span her waist with his hands, their bodies fitting together with terrifying perfection.
Meanwhile, she was still aggressively choking him. The pitiful girl from a minute ago was now a fierce little tyrant.
"Jerk!"
"Jerk!"
"Big Bad Wolf!"
She just kept repeating the insults like a broken record.


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