The Contract Wife Tries to Leave - Chapter 110
Johanna, seated on the sofa with a sketchbook in hand, looked up in surprise, her eyes widening at his sudden appearance. She quickly set down her pencil and tried to hide the sketchbook behind her back, an act that made her look more suspicious than ever.
“What were you doing?” he asked.
“Just… enjoying my hobby,” she replied, her voice tentative.
“You were drawing?”
She pressed her lips together and nodded, averting her gaze as if she had been caught. Was she embarrassed by the drawing? Leonid couldn’t suppress the amused smirk that crept onto his face. Without saying anything, he elegantly handed her the osmanthus branch he had been holding.
“Take it. It’s a gift.”
“A… gift?”
Johanna blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. Slowly, she reached out and accepted the branch. The fresh osmanthus still emitted its characteristic fragrance, and as Johanna inhaled the scent, her eyes widened in surprise.
Leonid’s lips curled into a faint smile.
“It’s osmanthus. Smells like your pheromones.”
“Ah…”
Johanna let out a soft exclamation as she turned the branch over in her hands, inspecting it. Her pale green eyes shimmered like jewels, catching the light. For a brief, feverish moment, Leonid had the strange urge to kiss those eyes. Clearly, the heat was starting to cloud his mind.
“I’m thinking of planting them in the estate’s garden. I liked it after just seeing it for a moment.”
“Oh… I see.”
Johanna tried not to read too much into his decision to plant a tree that carried a scent so similar to her pheromones. He probably just liked the osmanthus; it couldn’t possibly be for her. It wouldn’t be for her sake.
“Aren’t you happy?”
“What?”
“The osmanthus.”
“Oh.”
Am I supposed to be happy about this? She wondered briefly, though she knew it was a touching gesture. Regardless of the true intent behind it, it was a gift, after all, and perhaps she should express some gratitude.
“Yes, I’m happy. Thank you.”
“…Good.”
Did I say that too casually…? Johanna thought, realizing that Leonid’s reaction wasn’t exactly encouraging. She hesitated before speaking again.
“The scent is really nice. I didn’t know my pheromones smelled like this flower until now… And the flowers are very pretty.”
She felt like she was making a more sincere effort this time. However, Leonid just stared at her with the same expression, offering no reply, which made her feel uneasy.
As she nervously glanced at him, he suddenly moved closer, taking the seat next to her. The unstable Alpha pheromones wafted heavily in the air, reminding her that his control had been slipping since he entered the room. The signs of his rut were becoming more apparent.
“Then draw me.”
“What?”
“You’re good at drawing, right? As a thank-you, draw me.”
His sudden request left Johanna flustered. Did he find out? No, how could he know? He didn’t have the ability to see through things, so there was no way.
All her attention focused on the sketchbook she had hidden behind her back. Panic swelled within her—what if he tried to take it from her? The thought made her more anxious by the second.
“You’re not going to draw me?”
“No, no, I will.”
She answered hastily, grabbing her pencil. She reached behind her for the sketchbook, the one she had quickly hidden earlier. Did I close the cover before I hid it? She couldn’t remember, but if he saw the drawing she had been working on before, she might just faint from embarrassment.
Trying to move as slowly as possible, she pulled the sketchbook out while sneaking glances at Leonid. He sat calmly, arms crossed, watching her.
Fortunately, the sketchbook cover was closed. Johanna carefully flipped to a blank page, relieved yet still tense, fearing Leonid might suddenly snatch the book from her hands.
“What were you drawing earlier?”
His question came out of nowhere, nearly causing her pencil to slip. She quickly composed herself, pretending not to be flustered as her hand moved steadily.
“Just… some still life,” she replied, trying to keep her voice calm.
“Hm…”
Leonid made a low sound, still sitting with his arms crossed. Does he want me to draw him in that pose? Johanna wondered, trying to gauge his expectations. As an illustrator, she was used to fulfilling requests, so she started incorporating his posture into the drawing.
But just as she got into the flow, Leonid shifted. He uncrossed his arms and leaned back against the chair in a more relaxed position. Johanna froze for a second, momentarily thrown off by the change in angle and pose. From that point on, she knew she would have to rely on her imagination to finish the drawing.
It wasn’t a difficult task. After all, she had often found herself sketching his likeness from memory before.
