Josefina felt her lips press against something protruding, and as she came to her senses, realizing what she had inadvertently kissed, she panicked, scrambling backward to keep her distance from Oliver. Shirtless, Oliver watched Josefina's frantic retreat, his body leaning in to close the gap between them.

"Don't come any closer!" Josefina blurted out, on edge.

Oliver's voice was a low murmur, "What are you afraid of? That I'll gobble you up?"

Josefina's cheeks burned hot as she sat pressed against the car door, her piercing eyes brimming with turmoil. Just as she was about to yank open the door and make a run for it, Oliver turned around. "Help me with the ointment, will you?"

At his request, Josefina's heart stopped racing. "Lie down, would you? If you sit up like that, you'll spill the powder."

Josefina's melodious voice floated to Oliver's ears, and he did as he was told. He lay across the car seat while Josefina knelt beside him, tending to his wound.

With Oliver prone, a turn of his head allowed him to see the cascade of her hair, her exposed earlobe pale and endearing.

After she finished with the wound, Oliver sat up and, with one swift motion, drew Josefina into his embrace. Trapped in his strong arms, Josefina furrowed her brow. Was Oliver's firm hold an indication that he knew of her combat skills? Oliver had her encircled, his grip strategically placed where she might try to break free.

Josefina found herself seated on Oliver's lap, her back to him. His breath tickled her ear. Her clothing was pressed against Oliver's feverish chest, spreading warmth throughout her body. Their posture was undeniably intimate.

"What are you afraid of?" he whispered.

Josefina squirmed, trying to escape his hold. Oliver tightened his grip. "Calm down. I'm taking you out to eat."

With every movement she made, he was tempted to make one too.

Josefina felt something growing beneath her, and with a flushed face, she pushed away from Oliver. She reached for the door, intending to leave, but Oliver's voice halted her from behind, "Shall I bring lunch to your office instead?"

Left with little choice, Josefina stayed, accompanying Oliver to a nearby bistro.

Poking at her food, she glared at Oliver. "What's your angle?"

Oliver ladled soup into a bowl for her. "Try this. Our housekeeper simmered it for three hours."

The housekeeper had made this soup specifically for Josefina, a culinary strategy to aid Oliver in his courtship.

Josefina was hungry. She ignored Oliver and devoured two servings of rice and two bowls of soup, her appetite robust, prompting Oliver to match her plate for plate.

Josefina was his perfect "appetizer."

"I've got stuff to do this afternoon. I'm heading out."

Oliver didn't stop her. Instead, he passed her a box of neatly sliced fruit. "Have some more fruit."

Josefina paused, surprised that Oliver even knew her fruit preferences. "Thanks," she muttered, accepting the fruit.

After Josefina left, Oliver also departed the bistro.

George stood by the car door, munching on a sandwich, his look a bit pitiful. He greeted her respectfully, "Good afternoon, Ms. Josefina." With a sandwich in one hand and coffee in the other, he appeared somewhat forlorn.

"Why didn't you grab a bite to eat?"

Embarrassed, George explained, "Mr. Oliver came to have lunch with you, so the office work fell on me. There was an urgent document that needed his review, so I came to find him." "And you didn't go in?"

"You were dining with Mr. Oliver. I sure didn't want to be a third wheel, so I stayed out here."

Josefina knew the CEO's schedule was hectic. Oliver making time for lunch with her probably meant he squeezed those two hours out of his busy day. "I'll tell Oliver not to bother joining me for lunch anymore." George nearly dropped his sandwich in shock. "Ms. Josefina, please don't say that! He finally has moments of joy; let's not take that away from him."

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