His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 269

“For you.”

When Michael offered Niamh a massive bouquet of red roses—each one conspicuously missing its center—she stood there, completely thrown off guard.

“What are you doing here?”

“I heard you thanked me on stage at the show, so I thought I’d come by.”

Michael sounded utterly sincere.

Though his eyes, behind those gold-rimmed glasses, always seemed to carry a glint of mischief, Niamh couldn’t detect a single hint of a lie in his words.

“Don’t worry about the flowers—I removed all the pollen myself, then glued each petal back on one by one. It took me forever.”

He sounded ridiculously proud of himself, and Niamh couldn’t help but wonder why he’d go through so much trouble instead of just bringing something else.

“Thank you. I’ll take them.”

No matter what, Michael had given her the flowers with genuine intent; Niamh wasn’t about to turn him down.

It was the first time she’d ever cradled such a huge bouquet without sneezing even once.

She stepped into the hotel elevator. Michael followed her in.

“You’re staying here too?” she asked, surprised.

With Michael’s wealth and status, there was no way he’d be caught dead in a budget hotel like this.

“Nope.” He shook his head.

The elevator chimed. Niamh exited first, Michael trailing behind.

“I don’t have a room, so I guess I’ll have to crash with you tonight,” he said lightly.

Niamh stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him.

Michael slipped one hand into his pocket, pushing his glasses up with the other, the picture of casual charm.

She couldn’t tell if he was joking or dead serious.

“You know, a man and a woman shouldn’t just shack up together. Did you even think about whether I’d be okay with that?”

He just smiled.

“If you’re not, I’ll just force you to agree. How’s that sound?”

She glared. “Try it and I’ll call the police.”

“Is it because you’re a married woman?”

His smile was impossible to decipher.

She was about to snap back, but Michael cut her off.

“Jonathan’s room isn’t a single either. If he and Marina can play house, why can’t you and I share a room?”

At that, Niamh recalled what Jonathan had told her earlier:

“Marina refuses to share a room with me.”

Almost without thinking, she muttered under her breath, “They’re not staying together.”

Michael paused, then burst out laughing.

“You’re really the type to believe a man when he says there’s no one else, aren’t you? Should I call you naïve or just plain foolish?”

Niamh was about to shove him aside when the door next to hers swung open. Quentin poked his head out.

“Just a reminder—the walls here are paper thin. Some of us are trying to get some sleep. For example, me.”