The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet novel Chapter 1692

The moment Hertha's mind buzzed, she knew her mother wouldn't let her off the hook so easily.

At the dinner table, without waiting for Kimberly to make arrangements, Hertha took the initiative: "Mom, after we finish dinner, why don't you take the kids back with you? I'd like to have a word with Alaric alone."

"Why can't we discuss whatever it is with everyone here?" Kimberly was hesitant, suspecting Hertha might not have the best ideas. This wasn't the time for Hertha's whims.

"Mom, actually, I also have something I want to discuss privately with Hertha. Tomorrow, I'll come by to pick you and the kids up," Alaric unexpectedly supported Hertha, speaking up for her. He really needed to have a serious chat with Hertha alone. There are things that can only be said when no one else is around.

Kimberly was about to protest, but seeing Alaric's determination, she relented.

After dinner, Kimberly, coaxing Julian and Helena, left with them.

With her mother and the kids gone, Hertha was ready for a showdown with Alaric!

She rolled her eyes at him forcefully: "Who told you to start calling my mom 'mom'?"

"Your future wife did," Alaric replied with a mischievous grin curling at the corners of his mouth.

Hertha raised her hand to knock on his head: "Who's your future wife! And when did I ever tell you to call her 'mom'?"

Alaric caught her wrist with precision, pulled her close with a firm tug, and suddenly, her chest collided against his. A faint, refreshing fragrance wafted up, tightening Alaric's throat.

Her soft body hit his chest like a fluffy cotton ball, making Alaric's heart skip a beat. Hertha, caught off guard, fell into his arms, the lean, powerful allure of masculinity exuding a sexy force. The resilience of his skin made Hertha's heart race.

She held her breath, eyes wide, looking up at Alaric. His devilishly handsome face was too close, pulling at her, tempting Hertha's heart. She was a normal woman, with desires, and after three years of solitude, Hertha's body yearned even more keenly.

Just this collision set Hertha's mind racing, her blood boiling, her face instantly flushed with heat. Alaric looked down, his narrow, fox-like eyes locking with hers. In that instant, three years of longing and desire surged through their bodies, blood rushing, throats tightening.

Alaric swallowed, slowly leaning closer to Hertha. His robust masculine scent gradually enveloped Hertha's face, making her breathing grow erratic, her heart pounding like a startled deer.

Her eyes were dazed, watching as Alaric's sensual lips came closer, her brain foggy, breaths short, slowly closing her eyes.

But the anticipated kiss didn't come. Instead, Alaric pulled her into his embrace, her cheek brushing against his hot cheek, his chin resting on her shoulder, chuckling softly. The chuckle made her chest vibrate.

Hertha's muddled senses, jolted by his laugh, snapped back to clarity. She opened her eyes, awkward and flustered, saying, "What are you laughing at?"

"You just admitted you're my future wife, which is great," Alaric's magnetic voice whispered in Hertha's ear. His excitement wasn't just from their close contact but also from her inadvertent admission.