The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 62

After leaving Henry's study, I returned to my room feeling strangely unsettled. The missing divorce agreement troubled me more than it should have. Why would Henry hide it?

I had just settled into bed with a book when a sharp knock interrupted me. Three hard raps—Henry's signature knock. Despite my best efforts to remain calm, my heart began to race involuntarily.

"Come in," I called, pulling the covers higher.

The door remained closed. Another series of impatient knocks followed.

With a sigh, I set my book aside and walked softly to the door. The moment I turned the handle, Henry pushed his way inside.

"You were in my study," he stated directly. This wasn't a question, but an accusation.

I stepped back, maintaining distance between us. "Yes."

His eyes narrowed as he examined my face. "Why?"

"I was looking for the divorce papers."

Henry's jaw visibly tightened. "My study has been off-limits to you for five years. Have you forgotten why?"

How could I forget? Five years ago, I'd gone to his study to bring him coffee, hoping for a moment of connection. However, I accidentally knocked over a framed photo of Isabella on his desk. The glass shattered, and Henry's rage was immediate. From that day forward, his study became forbidden territory for me.

"I remember," I replied calmly. "I spilled coffee on your precious Isabella photo."

"And now you think you can come and go as you please?" his voice carried that dangerous edge I knew so well.

I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze directly. "I'm no longer that timid woman who feared your every mood, Henry. The study, the estate—none of it matters to me anymore."

"You rearranged my papers," he continued, his eyes never leaving mine. "Moved my fountain pen. The middle drawer was slightly open."

Of course, he would notice such minute details. This man had an almost obsessive attention to his possessions.

"Mr. Harding," I said with mock formality, "I was simply looking for the divorce agreement I signed. Given your grandfather's condition, I thought we might maintain appearances while you sign the papers discreetly."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "How considerate of you."

"It's for William's sake," I explained. "I promised James I wouldn't upset him with divorce proceedings until he recovers."

Henry moved closer, his expensive cologne filling my senses. "This house," he said quietly, "this marriage—when did you start thinking you could make the decisions?"

"What?"

"Five years ago, you forced your way into my family," he continued, his voice dangerously low. "Now you think you can leave whenever you want?"

"Henry, since you despise me so much, why not just let me go?" I stepped back, feeling the desk edge pressing against my thighs. "Sign the papers. Make me the disgraced ex-wife you've always wanted me to be. Wouldn't that satisfy your hatred?"

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. With one swift movement, he trapped me against the desk, his hands planted on either side of me.

"Hatred?" he repeated, his breath warm against my face.

I tried to retreat further, but there was nowhere to go. I awkwardly sat on the edge of the desk, unintentionally creating a more intimate position. Henry immediately stood between my legs, one hand on my slender waist, the other gripping my wrist.

"You're too close," I warned, my voice embarrassingly breathless.

His lips curved into that arrogant smile I both hated and found irresistibly attractive. "Am I?"

His fingers began slowly and deliberately caressing my inner thigh, the heat of his touch burning through the thin fabric of my pajamas. I knew I should push him away, but my body betrayed me as it always did. Five years of marriage had taught him exactly how to break down my defenses.

His lips found my earlobe, teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin. "For someone who claims to want freedom," he whispered, "your body seems to disagree."

"Stop," I weakly protested, my head unconsciously tilting to give him better access. "This isn't—"

Before I could finish, his mouth captured mine, stealing both my words and my resolve. His familiar taste—whiskey and something uniquely Henry—flooded my senses. Despite my brain screaming objections, my body responded with embarrassing eagerness, my hips subtly moving against him.

Henry pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. "Not good enough?" he taunted, his voice husky. "For someone complaining about my performance, you seem quite... cooperative."

Mortification burned through me. I pushed against his chest, but he remained unmoved, like trying to shift a marble statue.

"I don't want this," I insisted, though my flushed cheeks and quickened breathing betrayed me.

"Lying doesn't suit you, Sophia," he murmured, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below my ear. "Your body is more honest than your mouth."

Looking at his perfect face—those bright eyes, the defined jawline, those lips that knew exactly how to please me—I felt my resolve weakening.

After everything he had put me through, how could I still want this man?

The days since our last confrontation had created a tension between us that manifested as pure, unbridled desire. I could feel Henry's urgency, both our desires teetering on the edge of control.

When his fingers moved to the button of his pants, a moment of clarity broke through my fog of desire.

"Wait," I gasped. "Condom."

Henry paused, his expression momentarily uncertain before understanding dawned. Without a word, he stepped back, heading toward the adjoining bathroom where I kept a box of condoms—a remnant from when our marriage occasionally included physical intimacy.

The moment he disappeared through the bathroom door, I sprang into action. In one fluid movement, I slid off the desk and rushed to the bedroom door, turning the lock with trembling fingers.

I leaned against the door, heart pounding as I heard Henry return confused to an empty bedroom.

The doorknob rattled. "Sophia?" his voice carried both confusion and frustration. "What are you doing?"

"Goodnight, Henry," I called, my voice steadier than I felt.

A moment of silence followed, then a low chuckle that somehow managed to sound both amused and threatening. "This isn't over."

"It is for tonight," I replied, sliding down to sit with my back against the door.

His footsteps eventually faded down the hallway, and I finally allowed myself to breathe normally again. I crawled back into bed, pulling the covers tightly around me, as if they could shield me from my own treacherous desires.

What's wrong with you, Sophia? I silently admonished myself. After everything, how can you still want him?

Even now, my body still trembled slightly from unfulfilled need, the lingering heat of Henry's touch remaining on my skin. This man had tormented me for five years, yet one touch and I melted like a teenager with her first crush.

I promised myself I would firmly choose to leave Henry.

No matter what tactics this man might use!