The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 584

She caught herself drifting and quickly pulled her thoughts back on track. What on earth was she thinking?

"It's delicious."

Gwyneth had barely tasted the soup before nearly draining the cup in one go.

Hawthorne glanced over with a faint smile. "Slow down. There's even better to come."

He was clearly talking about the food, but for some reason, his words made her ears burn.

Even better to come? She shot him a quick look, and her gaze drifted to his slightly open collar, hinting just enough at what lay beneath to make her nerves tingle. Embarrassed, Gwyneth hid behind her cup, covering half her face—and, at this point, her eyes too.

While her heart hammered against her ribs, Hawthorne moved deftly around the kitchen, preparing dish after dish. The apartment was soon filled with the mouthwatering aroma of food. By the time Gwyneth managed to calm herself, he was already setting a steaming plate of fried rice in front of her.

Each grain shone, perfectly separate and glistening. Corn and ham peeked through the mound, and before she could react, Hawthorne scooped up a spoonful and held it out for her. She took a bite, chewed, and her eyes widened in disbelief. She'd eaten all sorts of gourmet delicacies in her life, but she'd never thought a humble plate of fried rice could win over her stomach like this.

If Hawthorne hadn't kept bringing out more dishes, she might've been tempted to lick the plate clean.

trained as a chef, haven't

about his technique, not with the way he plated each course. When he brought out a gorgeous seafood platter, Gwyneth thought even a

using up every last bit of ingredient. Watching him work, Gwyneth

was just the two of them, yet he'd filled the entire table

Would you like

wanted to act reserved, but as soon as he uncorked the bottle and the aroma

small

her, and Gwyneth finally

stew, fresh fruit, wild mushroom soup, toasted bread, little desserts-the table was a feast Hawthorne

got married today,

himself a glass too,

"Oh-"

some reason, whenever Hawthorne sat

line of his jaw, then his throat, and down-only to notice that sometime during the meat, he'd buttoned his shirt all

definitely toast,"

felt a little disappointed. Sure, he looked respectable, but she couldn't