My Boss's Hidden Heir (Elara and Marcus) novel Chapter 41

Chapter 41 He Knows Me Well

WILLOW

“Eat,” he said, placing a bowl on the table in front of me,

I looked up at him, still slightly dazed.

A large ceramic bowl sat before me, steam rising toward the ceiling. The scent of rich broth, sesame oil, and fresh scallions hit me immediately.

It was dumpling noodles with soup–one of my favorites again.

“You cooked?” I asked.

He shrugged. “You need to replenish your energy after studying so hard.”

The corner of his mouth lifted faintly, and heat crept up my neck again at the implication hidden in his

tone.

I picked up the spoon and chopsticks before I could think too much about it. The first sip of broth was heavenly. It was savory, warm, and comforting.

I began eating with far more enthusiasm than dignity, momentarily forgetting the fact that we had been devouring each other’s mouths against his study table not long ago.

The hot soup touched my still sensitive lips, and I hissed instinctively. With that, he grabbed a paper towel and leaned closer. His fingers tilted my chin slightly upward as he gently dabbed at my mouth.

“Careful,” he murmured.

The touch lingered just a second too long.

My stomach flipped.

He withdrew his handly,

regaining composure before I could comment, and I went back to eating.

I took another bite, and

time

I could not help the small sound that escaped me.

“Oh my god,” I breathed. “This is so good. How could you cook this well in such a short amount of time?”

He watched me closely.

“I knew you would like it,” he muttered.

There was something about the way he said it that made

I swallowed and narrowed my eyes at him slightly.

“You suspiciously know a lot about my likes,” I said.

me pause mid–chew

I continued eating, but my mind was already drifting back to the times I felt flattered because he knew

details that even my husband didn’t know.

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Flushed

I pointed at the bowl with my chopsticks. “My coffee. Now this. It’s exactly how I like it–firm noodles with extra chili oil and less cilantro. That’s not exactly common knowledge.”

He leaned casually against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, observing me with an amused smile.

I tucked into another dumpling, but my hair kept falling forward, brushing against my cheek and dipping dangerously close to the bowl.

Before I could adjust it, I felt his hand at the back of my head.

He gathered my hair gently.

The gesture was unhurried, and it felt nice having someone touch my hair. His fingers combed through the strands before pulling them together and tying them neatly behind me with what I realized was a hair tie from his own wrist.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You carry hair ties now?” I asked suspiciously.

He still hadn’t answered any of my questions. Or maybe he had already brought some ladies to this place, and that was why he carried hair ties with him.

“There,” he said softly, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Eat properly.”

My chest felt warm with his tone.

I continued eating, strangely happier now that my hair was out of the way.

As I continued to eat, he did not look away from me.

“Have you eaten?” I asked.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Before you arrived.”

I clicked my tongue. “It’s been hours. You should eat.”

He shook his head. “I’ll eat later.”

I shrugged and continued eating. However, he still did not look away from me.

“Why are you staring?” I asked between bites.

“You look satisfied,” he replied calmly.

I almost choked.

“With the noodles,” he added, amusement dancing in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re teasing me again.”

Silence seuled between us, but it was not awkward compared to before. When I was nearly done, I looked at him again.

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Chapter 41 He Knows Me Well

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Fint bed

“I still think this is strange.” I muttered.

“Is it really?” he asked, like he had already read my mind.

“Hmm?” I tilted my head to the side.

“You think it’s strange that I know what you like,” he said, pushing off the counter and stepping closer to the table.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “You never answer my questions.”

He studied me carefully.

“Think about it more, Willow,” he said quietly.

A small frown formed on my face.

Think about what?

I opened my mouth to press him further, but his gaze dropped to my bowl.

“You’re done?” he asked.

I looked down. The noodles were gone, and only a bit of broth remained.

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