The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife novel Chapter 263

Chapter 263: An Interruption

Sean POV

“Mrs. Wilson? Is everything okay in there? I heard a crash. Marcus’s voice carried through the door, concern evident in his tone.

1 suppressed a curse, my forehead dropping to rest against Angela’s shoulder. Of all the moments for an interruption…

Angela stiffened in my arms, reality crashing back into our private world. She pushed against my chest with renewed urgency, her face now flushed with embarrassment rather than passion.

The doorknob rattled as Marcus attempted to enter. Thank God I’d had the foresight to lock it.

“Sean?” His voice was more insistent now.

Angela squirmed out of my embrace, frantically smoothing her skirt and adjusting her blouse. Her–fingers fumbled with a button that had come undone, exposing the delicate curve of her collarbone

I drow in a deep breath, willing my frustration under control.

“What is it?” I called out, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

brave documents that need your signature immediately,” Marcus replied. “The board is waiting for your approval.”

I glanced at Angela, who was now checking her reflection in a compact mirror, her fingers gently touching the reddened mark forming on her neck. My mark. Despite the interruption, a flicker of satisfaction warmed my chest at the sight.

“Wait there,” I called back, voice deliberately neutral despite the star of irritation within me.

Angela’s eyes mot mine in the mirror, wide with mortification. “I cant believe we… here in the office,” she whispered, her fingers still tracing the evidence of our passion.

“We’re married,” I reminded her, straightening my tie

tacticed efficiency. “Besides, this is your private office.”

Her cheeks darkened further. “Still, I never thought I would not

I approached her, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear “Give me five minutes to get rid of Marcus, and we can where we left off.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, we should go home. This isn’t–it’s not professional

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I sighed, knowing the moment was lost. Angela had always been scrupulous about separating business from pleasure, even before her memory loss. Some habits ran too deep to be forgotten, it seemed.

With reluctance, I moved toward the door, pausing to ensure my appearance betrayed nothing of our interrupted activities. Angela temained by her desk, still flustered but regaining her composure.

1 opened the door just enough to face Marcus.

me to Angela, who stood by the

His eyes flicked over me–my sightly wrinkled shirt, my tie a little off–center–then darted past me dell with her blouse still askew and her hair mussed

His face froze for a split second, realization dawning. He’d been about to step inside, but he faltered, taking a quick step back. His

idropped to the floor as he thrust the folder toward me, his hand shaky.

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“S–sorry,” he stammered, a nervous giin tugging at his lips. “I, uh… Boks like I Interrupted something. My bad.”

I snatched the folder from him, my law tight. Angela shot him a glas red.

a glas fierce il could’ve burned through steel, her cheeks flaming

Marcus swallowed hard, his teasing edge fading under her state.

“Wait here,” I said curtly, slamming the door shut before he could say anything else.

I returned to Angela, whose complexion had nearly returned to normal. Only the slight redness of her lips and the mark below her collar betrayed our earlier passion.

“Documents requiring our signatures,” I explained, holding out the folder. “Apparently urgent.”

She took it without meeting my eyes. “Where do I sign?

I watched as she hastily flipped through the pages, her pen poised above the signature line. “Here?”

“Aren’t you going to read it first?” I couldn’t help asking.

she replied, already scrawling her name.

“That thoroughly? The question emerged more sharply than I intended.

She handed the folder back to me. “It’s done. You can give it to Marcus now.”

Instead of immediately returning to the door, I began carefully examining each page of the document. Angela watched me with growing impatience.

“What are you doing?” she finally asked.

“Reading what I’m about to sign my name to,” I replied evenly, “You should consider doing the same.”

“I did look at it,” she defended, her voice dropping. “Just not as carefully as you.”