His Domineering Lover
Chapter 455

Wilson immediately showed interested in questions concerning himself, "Yes."

"Yesterday, how did you know the airstream would pass within 20 seconds?" Tracey still felt that this person was an amazing prophet.

"A calculation on the cloud layers," Wilson said casually. Tracey had closed her eyes out of fear then and paid no attention to the clouds at all. And she remembered now Wilson did sit beside the window then. In another word, Wilson was analyzing calmly, when she was worried about the air crash.

"Mr. Wallace, you are amazing." Tracey expressed her admiration sincerely.

"I know because I once flew an airplane," Wilson told the truth flatly. Tracey was shocked at this information and thought that this man was awesome.

The expression on Wilson's face prevented her from pursuing the topic further.

There was a knock on the door, and the assistant brought two takeouts. They cost around 200 dollars and came from the favorite restaurant of Wilson in the nearby neighborhood. "Time for lunch." Wilson returned to his seat. As Wilson had rejected her departure twice, Tracey decided to stay as he wished.

"Thank you."

The two sat face to face. Wilson didn't talk much and ate fast, but his table manners were elegant. And Tracey suspected that he had once enlisted.

'Have he once been a pilot? But it was unfit for his social status.'

Tracey let her imagination run wild while keeping silent. She felt it fortunate that there was no medicine before lunch this time.

Wilson finished his meal within five minutes. And there were no leftovers in the food container, just like his character. Then he began to clean the table after wiping his mouth. Tracey was no match to him, and there were two-thirds left in her container.

She found Wilson staring at her before she could express that she was full, "Um... Mr. Wallace, want more?" Tracey asked in a low voice.

Actually, she was reluctant to share her food with Wilson, who was still regarded as a stranger.

"No, thanks." Wilson's answer made Tracey speechless, and she didn't dare to ask why he stared at her lunch.

"Well, I'm full, too." Under the stare of a stranger, Tracey decided to end her lunch as soon as possible.

Wilson frowned at the leftovers and the small appetite of this woman.

"Eat up."

"But I am full." Tracey took this as the hospitality from Wilson.

"Eat up, or our appointment will be cancelled.

I won't check your progress anymore." He judged that his stare made her feel embarrassed.

Tracey had no choice but to continue eating. In fact, the food tasted good. After eating up, she put the containers away.

Wilson was as good as his words and stopped staring blankly. He watched her movements with peripheral vision.

His attention kept being distracted by questions about her, for example, why this woman ate so slowly, like a rabbit, though he held those contracts and documents in hand. After tidying up the table, Tracey checked the time and felt impatient as it was only halfpast twelve, far away from closing time.

She had to get herself busy, "Mr. Wallace, may I read these books?"

"Yes." All Wilson wanted was that she stayed by his side, not limiting her freedom.

Tracey picked some business magazines to read. The afternoon sun penetrated through the French windows to warm Tracey.

The temperature in the room was just right, and Tracey fell asleep after some reading.

Wilson's heart landed on Tracey from the moment she came in, and his work efficiency was far lower than before.

He followed each movement of Tracey with his peripheral vision until she lost her battle against the drowsiness. And he guessed that should be caused by the time lag.

It should be late at night back in her homeland. He got up slowly and walked to Tracey. He saw her slumping on the sofa with books scattered around.

The black hair gently scattered around her cheek, and her skin was as fair as snow in the sunshine. This sleeping face had been deeply engraved in his heart since they were still on the plane. Wilson squatted beside her and stared at this sleeping face. He would like to touch her cheek to check if it was as soft as he imagined.

Before he reached out his hand, his eyes had fallen on her finger.

On her slender middle finger, there was a huge diamond ring dazzling with brilliance under the sun.

She was engaged.

His pupils dilated, and he soothed himself that a nice beauty like her deserved adoration.

Tracey curled up like a shrimp. Wilson took off his suit jacket and put it on her.

In the quiet room, the only noise was the sound of his tapping away at the computer from time to time. Even the secretary was driven away to save the sleeping beauty from being disturbed. Tracey's body still lived in accordance with the time zone of her homeland. When she woke up at five o'clock in the afternoon, Wilson almost got his work done.

Wilson stood in front of the French window and looked down at Tracey. He noticed her eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings when Tracey was struggling to wake up.

It was a sound sleep, and she mistook this as her bed at home. Tracey opened her eyes in a daze and saw a man standing next to her.

She muttered, "Adam, I'm thirsty."

Her flirtatious voice made Wilson feel soft, and his heart skipped a beat.

He would try his best, even if she asked for the moon now. Soon he brought her a glass of juice.

After two mouthfuls of juice, Tracey regained herself. Her face turned pale when she realized that she had fallen asleep in Wilson's office.

"Mr. Wallace, I'm sorry. I was too drowsy just now..." Tracey scrambled up and apologized.

"More juice?" Looking into her watery and alarmed eyes, Wilson asked.

A glance at his hand, which was still holding a glass of juice, made Tracey embarrassed, as she had mistaken him for Adam.

"No, I'm not thirsty." She took off the jacket and said, "Thank you, Mr. Wallace."

"Then come with me. I'm off work now." Wilson put the juice in her hand and picked up his jacket that Tracey just put down.

Out of the intimacy with Tracey this afternoon, the jacket wore a scent, faint, soft, and mild, quite different from that of other women.

There was still her lingering warmth on it, and the corners of Wilson's mouth twist up.

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