Chapter 147

It looked bitter, and as she knew from experience, it tasted even worse. Penelope had grown to dread the medicinal soup, reaching the point where the mere sight of it brought tears to her eyes.

She glanced over at Theodore. After heating the tonic and setting it before her, he had settled onto the sofa to take a call. He was laughing and talking with someone, completely at ease. Every so often, he'd shoot her a look-a look of perfect, unconcerned detachment.

Why should he get to be so carefree?

A wave of indignation washed over her. After forcing down the foul-tasting liquid, her mouth filled with a lingering bitterness. An idea sparked in her mind, and she ran towards him.

Theodore saw the mischievous glint in her eye and instantly knew what she was planning. As she pounced, he calmly raised a hand and pressed it against her forehead, stopping her in her tracks.

Undeterred, Penelope squirmed until she managed to land in his lap, wrapping her arms around his waist to keep from falling off. Then, she puckered her lips and lunged forward.

A smirk played on Theodore's lips as he held her at bay, his large hand easily controlling her head. She kicked and flailed, but she couldn't get any closer.

"Twenty-five points, a hundred million, wired directly to your company's account. No strings attached," he said into the phone. "Sir, the fact that I'm taking your personal call means I'm trying to discuss this as a friend."

He juggled the phone call and Penelope with ease, but he wasn't prepared for her secret weapon.

"Honey..."

The single, purred word made his hand falter for a split second. She seized the opportunity and lunged, but misjudged the angle and slammed her teeth into his chin.

Theodore hissed in pain, quickly clamping a hand on the back of her neck and pinning her against his shoulder.

"Ahem, Mr. Stapleton, am I interrupting something?" the man on the phone asked, a laugh in his voice.

Theodore took a deep breath. "Just a stray cat that got in."

The man on the other end went silent for a moment, probably thinking, A stray cat that calls you ‘honey'? Who do you think you're fooling?

"Twenty-four points. If you agree, I'll hang up right now and stop wasting your precious time."

"So you admit you're wasting my time."

"

"I believe this will be the last time I take a call from you."

"Twenty-five it is! Mr. Stapleton, I—I'm just going to go cry for a bit. We'll sign the contracts tomorrow."

"Go on then. Cry your heart out."

Theodore lowered the phone.

Penelope had gone still, and

assuming she'd given up, he relaxed

his grip. The moment he did, she

lunged again,

this time Successfully capturing his lips.

"You..."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she deepened the kiss, a vengeful exchange of breath and bitterness Theodore sighed, a hint of

resignation in his eyes. He threaded his fingers through her hair, his grip or her neck softening into a gentle caress as he felt the intense bitterness from the tonic transfer from her mouth to his. He began to

kiss her back, gently at first, then

with growing warmth.

After a long while, when the bitter taste had finally faded, Penelope pulled away, a triumphant grin on her face.

"Bitter, isn't it? So bitter you want to gag?"

Theodore cupped her chin, his eyes darkening. "Weren't you the one questioning my performance yesterday?"

"Huh?"

"Are you still questioning it?"

Penelope blinked, and as his

meaning dawned on her, she

became acutely aware that the spot where she was sitting was no longer flat. Her face flushed a deep red, and she tried to scramble off his tap, but he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back down and pressing her into the sofa cushions.

This time, it was he who kissed her, a fierce, passionate storm that left her breathless.

"No, we can't... I've been drinking that tonic for twenty days... It can't all be for nothing..." Penelope managed to gasp, a sliver of reason remaining.

"I know."

"Theodore!"

"Shh. Trust me."