Taming the Bitch (COMPLETED)

Chapter XLI - TO CRY HIS NAME

It wasn't difficult for Gabrielle to notice how the chef de rang kept sneaking glances and flashing seductive smiles at Vincent as she explained the menu to them. She even leaned closer to him when pointing out the day's specials, her cheek almost brushing his, subtly showing a hint of cleavage—not that Vincent paid much attention, as he was equally engaged in speaking to Gabrielle, asking her what she fancied.

"Well, the special of the day sounds splendid. What do you think, darling?"

"Yeah, sure..." she replied, rolling her eyes at the blonde as she jotted notes on her pad.

"Any drinks? Perhaps you'd like some wine?" the server said, her voice dripping as though she were moaning.

"Château Margaux," Gabrielle replied for Vince. She usually took charge of their drinks anyway, and he merely smiled at her knowingly.

"And dessert?" the server leaned towards Vincent again, eyes waiting for him to speak.

"Which of the desserts contains no nuts?" he asked, glancing at Gabrielle.

"Well, the cheesecake is highly recommended, as are the seasonal macarons. Do you have any allergies?" she asked in a concerned tone. Bloody blonde, shamelessly flirting with her husband right in front of her! Gabrielle could have sworn she'd fire the woman on the spot.

"My wife does," Vince replied, closing the menu and smiling in her direction.

"Oh... I see. I'll make a note of that, Mrs Walton," the server said before excusing herself to place their orders.

"She looks as if she wants to sit on your lap."

"W-what?!" Vince laughed at her comment.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes, making him chuckle, and she glared at him.

"God, you could be really jealous, Bella. I'm flattered," he teased, reaching for her face and pinching her cheek, only for her to swat his hand away.

"Shameless blonde. Can't she see you're bloody ancient?"

"Come on! I'm not that old!"

"Do I need to remind you that you're a decade older than me?"

"I don't look my age. Otherwise, you wouldn't be this jealous, don't you think, love?" he smirked, prompting her to narrow her eyes.

"Fuck yourself, Walton..." she whispered. He laughed heartily before taking her hand to press it to his lips. They sat side by side, facing the exquisite view beyond.

"I like it when you're jealous. Makes me feel... important," he murmured, kissing her knuckles before gently tilting her face to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

"Idiot..." she breathed, exhaling heavily.

"I must be the luckiest idiot... because you get jealous over me."

"You wish!" She rolled her eyes, hating how obvious her feelings were. Yes, alright! She was jealous. She loathed other women getting near him, particularly blondes. Cathy was blonde. The chef de rang had been blonde!

"I don't really care for blondes. So, no worries. I prefer short, curvaceous women with thick, curly brunette hair and warm, chocolate-hued eyes," he winked at her, touching the bridge of her nose.

"Oh, and a small, beak-like nose too... and ripe, cherry-red lips..." he continued, trailing his fingers lightly along her face.

"Do you know anyone like that? Perhaps we could dine, and then... next morning, my pillow would smell like her..." he whispered, inhaling her scent before kissing her neck softly, eliciting a quiet moan from her.