Chapter 171 - I Don't Have A Heart

What brought on this sudden change? Marcel had a sick feeling it had to do with that kiss. There were two categories of women in his life - the ones who loved him and the ones who lusted after him. 

Marcel had a feeling Clara graduated from the region of "hate" and into the department of "lust" and he was the "catalyst" responsible for that accelerated development.

The atmosphere in the room became awkward and Victor was the first to see himself out, "I'll see you two lovebirds later,"

Marcel glowered at him.

He scampered away for safety.

"I'll leave as well," Samuel said.

"Where are you going?!" Marcel thundered at him. He didn't want to be left with this woman. Ever since Clara made that love confession, he was scared of her.

He was not comfortable with the sudden attention Clara was giving him and the both of them being alone - where anything could happen - was the last thing he wanted.

"I'll get the car ready!" Samuel announced and fled away like the Flash before even Marcel could stop him.

"You-!" Marcel was dumbfounded. He was red in the face with both embarrassment and anger. Those two unfaithful brethren! He should just sack them after this is over. 

Left with no choice but to face his fate all alone, Marcel turned to Clara with a resigned sigh. He must be paying for all of the sins he committed; this was karma. 

A pleased smile formed on Clara's lips when everyone evacuated the room. At least they weren't as dumb as she thought. It seems being accepted as the future madam wouldn't be as hard as she thought. 

"Now, you have the privacy to say all you want to?" Marcel gestured to his office that was devoid of human presence. 

"Who said I was here to talk?" Clara said with a mischievous smirk and then in three steps, ambled over to Marcel, hitched him closer by the collar, and pressed her lips against his. 

His lips were still as gentle yet firm as she remembered and when she kissed him fully, it felt good. Unlike Luther, whose lips were most times chapped, Marcel's were smooth as if he had exfoliated the dead skins making his lips look healthier - and yummy.

If only Marcel knew what she was thinking at that moment, he could have run away with his tails in between his lips. How could his lips be yummy? Cannibal mode suspected.

However, even as she kissed him, it was unsatisfactory and it was because something was missing. The passion. Even though she kissed him, Marcel stood as still as a tree; he was unaffected. Or maybe, he was trying hard to be unaffected.

Clara missed that feeling. She remembered that day he kissed her as if she truly mattered. Almost as if he was scared of losing her - that kiss had conveyed too many messages. But then, she couldn't see the sign of it now. Why wasn't Marcel making a move on her when she was literally throwing herself on him? She was confused. 

So she kissed him harder and even rubbed her pelvis against his to elicit a reaction but all he did was to pull her away. They broke apart at once. 

Clara looked up at anywhere else but him, her chest heaving from the lack of oxygen. She then faced him, " You know, I'm going to get your heart one day," 

"Good luck with that," Marcel told her, straightening his shirt she had crumbled up in the process of kissing him. 

Clara frowned, "Are you in love with someone else?" It suddenly crossed her mind. That had to be the reason Marcel was being indifferent to her. 

Marcel halted his actions, his brows raised, "No." was all he said. No further explanation. 

"Then why?" 

"Why what?" 

"Why have you been cold to me? I'm trying my absolute best to win your heart?" 

Marcel laughed mirthlessly, "That's the problem, I don't exactly have a heart," He tried to leave but she stood in his way. 

"Why do I find that hard to believe?" Clara spoke, her words almost a whisper as she looked into his eyes as if trying to search for an answer that could help her understand him. 

Without warning, Marcel whirled her around and backed her into the wall, pinning both of her hands above her head. Not that she was complaining, that was extremely sexy. Thinking she finally got him in the mood, Clara anticipated his next move. She bet her expectations would be met. 

"What do you want from me?" Marcel asked, his voice incredibly low and sexy.

"Everything," She wanted to say but couldn't find the voice to speak. Marcel was turning her on.

"Is it sex?" And as he said those words, his hands traveled into her gown and began to trail up her skin. 

It wasn't his hands that turned her on, rather the intensity in Marcel's eyes. The boldness in them as his hands traveled further up without breaking his gaze. He was confident in himself and that alone boosted his sex appeal. 

Her breath hitched and her body shivered in delight as his hand traveled close to her heat, just a little more….. He stopped.

And it came as a major disappointment when he suddenly stopped. If her hands weren't restrained, she would have made him finish what he started. 

"Or have you become bored of Luther, you've turned your sight on me? I didn't know you're that much of an attention seeker?" he said cruelly. 

Whatever excitement Clara felt for Marcel vanished as soon as he said those words. At once, the adoration she had for him turned into resentment. She struggled to be free and Marcel let her be. 

But as soon as her hands were free, she landed a slap on his face, "How could you?!" 

Marcel saw that slap coming yet made no efforts to stop her. Maybe he did deserve that one. 

"How could you think that low of me?!" She cried out, feeling wronged. She went on, feeling strong bitterness in her heart, "I even gave up the man I loved just to make this work and this is how you treat me?" 

"That's the problem. Maybe you should go back to him,"