Ah.Knowing how much those small words had cost his fiercely independent wife, the billionaire waited patiently, his silence letting Ilse know that this would be her decision to make. If she wanted his help, she only had to say the word. But if she wanted to do it on her own, then he would let her.
Ilse’s lips curved. “Aren’t we in danger of being late?”
They were,the billionaire thought. He had a surprise party planned for her, and they had a lot of guests waiting. But out loud, he only said, “It’s our building, babe. We can go there anytime.”
After a few moments, Ilse said, “My belt looks like...”
As she gave him a description, he spotted it right away, and he bent down to pick the glittery belt from under the vanity table. “Found it.”
“Thank you.”
“Let me help you wear it?”
She nodded, and it spoke a lot about the way she sensed his presence that she no longer tensed when his fingers seemed to come out of nowhere. He wrapped the belt around her waist, cinching it in place, but instead of releasing her, the billionaire pulled Ilse close to him, her back against his chest. As his mouth traveled the side of her neck, a shiver ran down her spine at thedelicious, feather-soft touch, and she couldn’t help arching her head, giving him more access.
“Happy birthday, babe.”
Her smile widening a little, she teased him, “That’s the seventh time you’ve greeted me.”
“Mm.”
His lips nibbled on her neck, but then his arms moved around her, and an amused gasp escaped Ilse as his hands cupped her breasts. “Jaak!” She turned around to face him, shaking her head. “If you keep touching me, we’llreallybe late. We’re supposed to have dinner out with everyone, remember?”
He did, reluctantly. And by everyone, Ilse had yet to know it meant about two hundred guests. “We’ll continue this tonight,” he muttered under his breath. “Ja?”
“Ja—-mmph.”
The billionaire had crushed her mouth under his, and but before Ilse could even try kissing him back, her husband had already pulled away, leaving her mentally flailing. She kind of wanted...more?
The billionaire grinned. “Do you want me to kiss you again, babe?” Ilse’s lips only pursed, but he didn’t mind. That look of hers only meant one thing anyway.
They walked out hand in hand, and after a thirty-minute ride, they made it to the hospital in which the billionaire had donated an entire wing in Ilse’s name. As she took the billionaire’s hand and let him help her out of the limousine, she asked excitedly how the building looked.
Glancing at the five-story structure – Ilse’s way of making him atone for the time he hadtriedto cheat on her, the billionaire said dryly, “It looks just like how you imagine a 150-million-dollar-property would.”
“Don’t complain,” she said severely as they started walking. “You’re lucky I didn’t go after your entire fortune.”
“Yes,” the billionaire drawled. “I am indeed the mostpropitiousof men, to have such an, err,munificentwife.”
Ilse’s lips pursed again. Goodness gracious, but somehow, the more time she spent with her husband, the funnier she found him. And these days, she wasn’t even sure if what he said was funny in reality.
She just loved him so much she had the silliest urge to laugh at every word he spoke.
It was quite, quite embarrassing.
The billionaire remained quiet when they made it to the elevator, and she placed a hand over his heart, trying to gauge his mood. “Jaak?”
“Mm?”
“Is anything disturbing you?”
“I...suppose.” He absently took hold of her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles, thinking that ‘uneasy’ was probably the more accurate term to describe the emotion clutching his heart.
“What is it?”
He didn’t answer right away, but instead drew her out of the elevator, which had stopped at the fifth floor. The lift openeddirectly to the wing’s function hall, and two hundred guests turned to them, most of them holding their breath in hopes of controlling their excitement. Almost the entire de Konigh clan was in attendance, and of course Erik and Jan were there, too, and so were Gloria and the rest of the girls that made up Glory Hall. The rest consisted of friends from all over De Wallen, like the gruffly affectionate bookstore owner Mr. Peters, Charlene, and a dozen other sex workers, and de Konigh staff that Ilse had befriended in the past year.
It was definitely an unconventional mix of people, and it was perfect, considering how equally unconventional his wife was.
