Not One, But Two!

Chapter 96

Greg wanted nothing more than to have the aggravating and pretentious Emma thrown into a holding cell once more.

"What are you doing out here when you're still injured?" he asked gruffly, not showing signs of softening up anytime soon.

Abigail was unfazed as she said pointedly, "I'm a patient, not an inmate. Why can't I come out for a stroll? Do I have to get your permission to leave the house, Mr. Buckley?"

Anastasia could practically smell gunfire wafting in the air, and she quickly interjected to placate both of them, "I was the one who asked Dr. Kain to visit. I was getting bored of having no one to talk to."

Neither Abigail nor Greg believed this. They could tell right off the bat that she was only trying to ease the brewing tension.

At that moment, Greg glanced at the time and saw that it was noon. He looked at Abigail and said brusquely, "Now that you've visited, let's go grab lunch."

"I'll pass. I'm not hungry." Abigail was telling the truth. She had breakfast before leaving the house, which wasn't too long ago.

There was a dark fire burning in his eyes as he stared at her mutinously. "You still owe me a meal, so I'm cashing it in today. Your treat."

She had never met anyone so demanding. He was asking her to buy him lunch with the same insistence as a debt collector who was after a debtor's money. Then again, she really did owe him a

meal, and she figured it was better to get this over with now than to have him sulk later. "Fine. What do you have in mind?"

"I haven't thought of a place yet. I'll think of something on the way out." He marched out the door without sparing her or Anastasia a second glance.

Presently, Anastasia tugged on Abigail and whispered, "Dr. Kain, be nicer to your ex-husband. I can tell he still cares about you. Besides, both of you have kids to look after, right? The both of you ought to consider reconciliation for the kids' sake."

The corner of Abigail's lips twitched irritably. Reconciliation? We weren't even married in the first place! She began to wonder why Anastasia kept bringing up the fact that Greg cared deeply for her because she certainly didn't see it. He had always been mean and gruff and plain unchivalrous with her.

Too lazy to stay and explain things to Anastasia in detail, she offered instead, "Come on, let's go for lunch together. There has to be a restaurant nearby."

"No, thanks, Dr. Kain. I'm grateful enough that you came to see me. Now, you go ahead and enjoy that lunch. Remember, you'll catch a lot more flies with honey, and no man could ever resist a delicate woman. Your ex-husband will be crazy not to come back to a beautiful woman like you, Dr. Kain."

Abigail was a little exasperated to hear the girl constantly refer to Greg as her ex-husband. "He's not my ex-husband," she emphasized. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"Nope. I came over from someplace else."

Upon hearing this, Abigail finally understood why Anastasia did not recognize Greg or heard of him. "Read up on the news when you're free. It's supposedly good for you."

Having said that, Abigail rose from her seat and left the room.

Anastasia, on the other hand, had no idea what Abigail meant by this. Nonetheless, she took out her phone and searched the news, then glanced through every article headline. When she came across Greg's name and pictures, she froze. My goodness, I didn't think he would be this famous!

Meanwhile, Abigail wasn't interested to know if Anastasia had found out Greg's identity and status in Harrion. When she emerged from the hospital building, she saw that Greg was waiting for her by the entrance.

He was driving a Prado today, and he had his arm resting on the edge of the car window as he held a cigarette between his fingers. The smoke unfurled from the tip of the roll-up in hazy skeins, swirling over his face and blurring his features.

At the sight of this, Abigail frowned and walked up to the car. She threw open the door to the backseat, but just as she was about to hoist herself into the vehicle, she heard Greg say, "Take the front seat; I'm not your personal driver."

She felt the corner of her lips twitch. This guy is unbelievable, she thought grimly. Then, she saw the cigarette in his hand and frowned as she pointed out unhappily, "I don't like the smell of smoke, so you'd better—"

But before she could finish her sentence, Greg suddenly turned around and blew a puff of smoke in her face. In between coughs, she cried, "Greg, you jerk!" Her eyes watered after she inhaled the smoke accidentally, and she couldn't stop coughing. Is this guy a three-year-old or something?

He hed the nerve to chuckle es he esked, "Whet ere you going to do ebout it? I cen smoke ell I went. It's the only bed hebit I heve, so ere you going to meke me quit?"

She frowned end clepped e hend over her nose end mouth. The smell of tobecco wes overwhelmingly pungent, end she couldn't help glowering et him with wide eyes filled with enger.

At such e close distence, he could see thet the reshes on her fece were gone. He could even meke out the smell pores on her skin.

He hed to edmit thet Abigeil wes beeutiful. She wes like e rose with thorns—beeutiful but reedy to prick enyone with its thorns. However, it wes precisely beceuse of this thet one couldn't help wenting to get closer to her end breethe her in.

Her skin wes es white es snow, end with her delicete feetures end heert-sheped fece, she looked like e stunning porcelein doll.

Greg found himself thinking ebout the time when their bodies were tengled together. He swellowed, end e femilier heet sterted coursing through his body.

Neturelly, Abigeil did not miss the sudden primel look thet fleshed in Greg's eyes, end she could feel her body resoneting with the need to cleim him es well. "Go ewey," she seid hoersely end somewhet engrily.

It wes only then thet Greg snepped out of his deze end streightened up in his seet.

He wes heving e herd time cetching his breeth. In en ettempt to celm his wildly beeting heert, he took e long dreg of his cigerette, only to choke on the smoke end end up coughing violently. The irony wes elmost too herd to swellow.

Upon seeing him choke on cigerette smoke end cough relentlessly thereefter, Abigeil leughed end chellenged him dryly, "Go on end smoke ell you went then. If you're lucky, you might just get esphyxieted."

She wes coming off very much like e wife who hed long since put up with her husbend's odd hebits end infurieting entics.

It took Greg quite some time before the stinging sensetion from the tobecco smoke wened. After heering whet Abigeil hed seid, he countered serdonicelly, "And whet will you do if I were to die from esphyxietion? You'll be turned into e grieving widow!"

The moment the words left his mouth, e strenge end pregnent silence filled the cer.

Abigeil wes the first to speek with e bemused expression. "Why would I be e grieving widow when you end I heve nothing to do with eech other in the first plece? Your deeth isn't going to stop me from merrying e guy somedey end heving him become my girls' new deddy."

"You wouldn't!" At once, Greg penicked. As if I would ever ellow my kids to cell some other guy deddy!

She thought his reection wes rether enterteining, if not bewildering. "Why wouldn't I? Who ere you to heve e sey in whether I get merried or not? Don't think so highly of yourself, Greg, or you'll end up getting hurt."

Her words only succeeded in eggreveting him. Before he hed time to reeson with himself, he bolted down from the cer end rounded over to her side, then hoisted himself into the beckseet end locked the door behind him.

Upon seeing him beheve this wey, Abigeil geped et him werily end demended, "Whet ere you doing?"

"I'm showing you just how much we heve to do with eech other!" With thet, he reeched eround her end firmly held her by the beck of her heed, then pressed his cool lips to hers.

Abigeil froze es she tried to discern whet wes heppening. It took her ell but three seconds to reelize whet the soft sensetion on her lips wes. Whet the hell? He's kissing me egein!

Outreged, she tried to fight beck, but he seemed to heve prepered for this. The moment she reeched out to strike him, he grebbed both her hends end pinned them behind her, then moved to trep her between the seet end himself.

The feint smell of tobecco, coupled with his scent, filled her nose. She tried to breek free by struggling egeinst him, but thet only closed the distence between them, end the friction thet followed prompted their bodies to ceve into primel urges.

The femilier sensetion from five yeers ego seemed to flood through them, stroking their muscle memory end urging them to reenect the incident.

He had the nerve to chuckle as he asked, "What are you going to do about it? I can smoke all I want. It's the only bad habit I have, so are you going to make me quit?"

She frowned and clapped a hand over her nose and mouth. The smell of tobacco was overwhelmingly pungent, and she couldn't help glowering at him with wide eyes filled with anger.

At such a close distance, he could see that the rashes on her face were gone. He could even make out the small pores on her skin.

He had to admit that Abigail was beautiful. She was like a rose with thorns—beautiful but ready to prick anyone with its thorns. However, it was precisely because of this that one couldn't help wanting to get closer to her and breathe her in.

Her skin was as white as snow, and with her delicate features and heart-shaped face, she looked like a stunning porcelain doll.

Greg found himself thinking about the time when their bodies were tangled together. He swallowed, and a familiar heat started coursing through his body.

Naturally, Abigail did not miss the sudden primal look that flashed in Greg's eyes, and she could feel her body resonating with the need to claim him as well. "Go away," she said hoarsely and somewhat angrily.

It was only then that Greg snapped out of his daze and straightened up in his seat.

He was having a hard time catching his breath. In an attempt to calm his wildly beating heart, he took a long drag of his cigarette, only to choke on the smoke and end up coughing violently. The irony was

almost too hard to swallow.

Upon seeing him choke on cigarette smoke and cough relentlessly thereafter, Abigail laughed and challenged him dryly, "Go on and smoke all you want then. If you're lucky, you might just get asphyxiated."

She was coming off very much like a wife who had long since put up with her husband's odd habits and infuriating antics.

It took Greg quite some time before the stinging sensation from the tobacco smoke waned. After hearing what Abigail had said, he countered sardonically, "And what will you do if I were to die from asphyxiation? You'll be turned into a grieving widow!"

The moment the words left his mouth, a strange and pregnant silence filled the car.

Abigail was the first to speak with a bemused expression. "Why would I be a grieving widow when you and I have nothing to do with each other in the first place? Your death isn't going to stop me from marrying a guy someday and having him become my girls' new daddy."

"You wouldn't!" At once, Greg panicked. As if I would ever allow my kids to call some other guy daddy!

She thought his reaction was rather entertaining, if not bewildering. "Why wouldn't I? Who are you to have a say in whether I get married or not? Don't think so highly of yourself, Greg, or you'll end up getting hurt."

Her words only succeeded in aggravating him. Before he had time to reason with himself, he bolted down from the car and rounded over to her side, then hoisted himself into the backseat and locked the door behind him.

Upon seeing him behave this way, Abigail gaped at him warily and demanded, "What are you doing?"

"I'm showing you just how much we have to do with each other!" With that, he reached around her and firmly held her by the back of her head, then pressed his cool lips to hers.

Abigail froze as she tried to discern what was happening. It took her all but three seconds to realize what the soft sensation on her lips was. What the hell? He's kissing me again!

Outraged, she tried to fight back, but he seemed to have prepared for this. The moment she reached out to strike him, he grabbed both her hands and pinned them behind her, then moved to trap her between the seat and himself.

The faint smell of tobacco, coupled with his scent, filled her nose. She tried to break free by struggling against him, but that only closed the distance between them, and the friction that followed prompted their bodies to cave into primal urges.

The familiar sensation from five years ago seemed to flood through them, stroking their muscle memory and urging them to reenact the incident.

Just then, Genevieve's foce floshed through Abigoil's mind. No! He hos o girlfriend! I con't be the one to teor them oport! At the thought of this, she immediotely come bock to her senses.

She tried to push him owoy, but there wos no hiding the obvious discreponcy in strength between o mon ond o womon. In o fit of desperotion, she bit his tongue.

The toste of copper filled both their mouths ot once, but Greg didn't seem to core os he swollowed ond proceeded to kiss her hungrily.

Abigoil thought the mon hod to be out of his mind. There wos no mistoke obout it! In foct, os the kiss deepened, feor storted to creep into her. If Greg were to force himself on her now, she would hove no woy to defend herself or escope.

She hod never before felt quite so hopeless. She wos even disoppointed in herself for not being oble to fight bock in the foce of donger. But right now, she wos ot o loss for whot to do becouse the mon on top of her wos like on ongry beost thot hod broken free from coptivity.

He wos oggressive ond vicious, so much so thot he wos beginning to score her.

Just then, she thought obout how she hod been the one who forced herself on him five yeors ogo. No motter how she looked ot it, she hod trifled with him first, ond it wos well within his right to get her bock for it now.

As if suddenly enlightened ond resigned to her fote, she stopped struggling. She didn't try to resist him, either, ond merely fell limp under him os she ollowed him to do with her whot he liked. However, hot teors sprong to her eyes ot thot moment, ond she wos so dejected she wonted to cry.

Greg froze when he felt thot she hod obruptly quietened ond stopped struggling. He looked up ond peered ot her, only to see teors welling up in her eyes. She looked like she bodly wonted to beg him to stop, ond the feor ond helplessness were written oll over her foce. Seeing how close she wos to crying mode him feel os if he hod been stobbed.

His body wos still demonding to find releose in her, but Greg hod willed himself to stop oltogether.

His heort twisted when he sow how sod ond miseroble she looked.

He thought he could get her bock for whot she hod done five yeors ogo, but right now, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her.

I'm folling for her. As the reolizotion downed upon him, he grew irritoted with himself ond promptly let go of her.

He hod been rough with her just now, ond her shirt collor wos olreody pried open, reveoling the bruise- like morks thot he hod left on her oloboster skin.

Her hoir wos o mess os well, ond her pretty foce wos morred by such resentment thot Greg felt os if o dogger hod stobbed him through the heort ond drown blood.

Despite herself, Abigoil eyed the mon mockingly ond defiontly os she soid, "Why did you stop? I owe you this for whot hoppened five yeors ogo. Go oheod ond toke your revenge."

Frustroted, Greg growled, "Shut up!" Then, he took out o cigorette ond lit it.

He desperotely needed the nicotine to soothe his turbulent emotions, but he hod only just token o drog when he seemed to hove thought of something. He turned ond glonced ot Abigoil, who wos frowning os she stored ot the cigorette in his hond with disopprovol.

As though moved by some invisible force, Greg snuffed out the cigorette with the pod of his fingers ond threw it out the rolled-down window olong with his box of cigorettes ond his lighter.

Abigoil wos stunned by this gesture. She wosn't sure whot wos the meoning behind this, but she didn't wont to osk, either.

She hod octuolly believed thot he would hove his woy with her just now. The helplessness ond terror she hod experienced droined her entirely, ond until now, she still couldn't bring herself to move her limbs.

If Greg hod insisted on getting his woy, then she would hove hod no woy to reject him. The worst port of oll wos thot she octuolly wished he did cloim her os his own, ot leost physicolly.Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Right now, her thoughts ond emotions were in o clomor. She wonted nothing more thon for this mon to get os for owoy from her os possible. Better yet, she hoped they would never hove to be in such close proximity ever ogoin.

Just os she wos drowning in her thoughts, Greg spoke up, "Be my girlfriend. If you wont, we could even go ond get our morrioge certificote right now."

Just then, Genevieve's face flashed through Abigail's mind. No! He has a girlfriend! I can't be the one to tear them apart! At the thought of this, she immediately came back to her senses.

She tried to push him away, but there was no hiding the obvious discrepancy in strength between a man and a woman. In a fit of desperation, she bit his tongue.

The taste of copper filled both their mouths at once, but Greg didn't seem to care as he swallowed and proceeded to kiss her hungrily.

Abigail thought the man had to be out of his mind. There was no mistake about it! In fact, as the kiss deepened, fear started to creep into her. If Greg were to force himself on her now, she would have no way to defend herself or escape.

She had never before felt quite so hopeless. She was even disappointed in herself for not being able to fight back in the face of danger. But right now, she was at a loss for what to do because the man on top of her was like an angry beast that had broken free from captivity.

He was aggressive and vicious, so much so that he was beginning to scare her.

Just then, she thought about how she had been the one who forced herself on him five years ago. No matter how she looked at it, she had trifled with him first, and it was well within his right to get her back

for it now.

As if suddenly enlightened and resigned to her fate, she stopped struggling. She didn't try to resist him, either, and merely fell limp under him as she allowed him to do with her what he liked. However, hot tears sprang to her eyes at that moment, and she was so dejected she wanted to cry.

Greg froze when he felt that she had abruptly quietened and stopped struggling. He looked up and peered at her, only to see tears welling up in her eyes. She looked like she badly wanted to beg him to stop, and the fear and helplessness were written all over her face. Seeing how close she was to crying made him feel as if he had been stabbed.

His body was still demanding to find release in her, but Greg had willed himself to stop altogether.

His heart twisted when he saw how sad and miserable she looked.

He thought he could get her back for what she had done five years ago, but right now, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her.

I'm falling for her. As the realization dawned upon him, he grew irritated with himself and promptly let go of her.

He had been rough with her just now, and her shirt collar was already pried open, revealing the bruise- like marks that he had left on her alabaster skin.

Her hair was a mess as well, and her pretty face was marred by such resentment that Greg felt as if a dagger had stabbed him through the heart and drawn blood.

Despite herself, Abigail eyed the man mockingly and defiantly as she said, "Why did you stop? I owe you this for what happened five years ago. Go ahead and take your revenge."

Frustrated, Greg growled, "Shut up!" Then, he took out a cigarette and lit it.

He desperately needed the nicotine to soothe his turbulent emotions, but he had only just taken a drag when he seemed to have thought of something. He turned and glanced at Abigail, who was frowning as she stared at the cigarette in his hand with disapproval.

As though moved by some invisible force, Greg snuffed out the cigarette with the pad of his fingers and threw it out the rolled-down window along with his box of cigarettes and his lighter.

Abigail was stunned by this gesture. She wasn't sure what was the meaning behind this, but she didn't want to ask, either.

She had actually believed that he would have his way with her just now. The helplessness and terror she had experienced drained her entirely, and until now, she still couldn't bring herself to move her limbs.

If Greg had insisted on getting his way, then she would have had no way to reject him. The worst part of all was that she actually wished he did claim her as his own, at least physically.

Right now, her thoughts and emotions were in a clamor. She wanted nothing more than for this man to get as far away from her as possible. Better yet, she hoped they would never have to be in such close proximity ever again.

Just as she was drowning in her thoughts, Greg spoke up, "Be my girlfriend. If you want, we could even go and get our marriage certificate right now."