Sighing in resignation, Oliver pushed the cabinet door shut with a gentle click and perched wearily on the bed’s edge. “Seems Grandma cleverly tricked me into coming up here under the guise of fetching something.”
Feeling a mix of irritation and surrender, Elizabeth flopped down onto the couch facing him and admitted, “She sent me up to keep an eye on you as well.”
Their eyes locked for a moment, and they couldn’t help but dissolve into hearty laughter, fully aware of the extent of Melany’s scheming.
Elizabeth was the first to break the silence. “I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight.”
The once relaxed ambiance shifted abruptly to an uneasy stillness.
Oliver, with a careless gesture, flung his jacket onto a nearby chair. “Do you ever wonder what might occur if we were to share the bed?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Tight-lipped, Elizabeth responded with a heavy silence that filled the room.
Given his recent odd behavior, his question felt distinctly out of place.
Sensing the tension thicken, Oliver’s face took on a somber expression. “Even if, hypothetically, something were to happen, it falls within the bonds of matrimony,” he asserted firmly.
“Yet, coercion under any guise is still assault,” Elizabeth countered with a calm yet firm tone.
“Must you always meet my words with such hostility?” Oliver challenged, frustration simmering behind his clenched teeth. He paused, a smirk replacing his frown as he recalled the joke from her friend. “Your best friend said you’ve never really reaped the benefits of being married. Now that those benefits are within reach, what’s holding you back?”
He then casually leaned back against the headboard, propping himself up on his palms. His casual pose could not obscure the allure of his sharp jawline or the subtle bob of his Adam’s apple—a silent testament to his rugged charm.
In that moment, Elizabeth realized with startling clarity that allure was not bound by gender—a tactic as potent for men as it had been for women throughout the ages.
