The sun hung high in the sky, casting warm beams through the large glass panes of the mansion's sunroom. The sound of gentle waves breaking on the shore filtered through the open balcony doors, carrying the scent of salt. Edmund stood by the large window of their room, his phone pressed to his ear. His voice, deep and resonant, carried a rare note of joy and an unmistakable energy as he spoke.

　　Angela lingered by the doorway, drawn by the unusual lightness in his tone, her eyes catching the light in his smile. It wasn't often that she saw him like this, his guard down, his face unburdened by shadows. Edmund rarely sounded this happy, and the sound of his soft, genuine laugh made her heart skip a beat. She stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt, and instead watched him. His usually guarded features were relaxed, his posture loose, as though the weight he carried had momentarily lifted.

　　"That's incredible, Mark," Edmund said, pacing slightly. "I knew you'd crack it. You always manage to deliver," he said, his deep voice resonating with satisfaction. He leaned casually against the window frame, the sunlight catching the sharp lines of his face. A slight smile tugged at his lips, making him look younger, almost carefree. "Yes, I'll review the papers when I'm back, but this is huge." His laughter, rich and genuine, drifted across the room. "Yes, I owe you a drink or several. We'll talk about the details later, but for now, just good work."

　　Angela tilted her head, intrigued. She'd grown used to his usual calm, collected demeanor, so this version of him was a pleasant surprise.

　　Angela stepped closer, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "I don't think I've ever seen you this happy," she teased, her voice soft yet playful.

　　Edmund turned, his eyes found her immediately. "How long have you been standing there? Eavesdropping?" he teased, his lips quaking into a playful grin.

　　"Long enough to hear you sounding unusually happy," Angela replied, stepping closer. Her bare feet padded softly on the hardwood floor. "What was that about?"

　　Edmund's smile widened, his eyes meeting hers with a brightness that was rare but breathtaking, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's a surprise," he said, his voice low and teasing.

　　"A surprise for me?" she asked, tilting her head, her intrigue only growing.

　　He nodded, his expression teasing but sincere. "You'll find out soon enough. Patience, darling."

　　Angela narrowed her eyes playfully, folding her arms. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? You know I hate waiting for surprises."

　　"Immensely," Edmund admitted, his smile turning into a soft chuckle. He caught her wrist gently, pulling her closer until there was barely any space between them. "And that's exactly why I'm making you wait," he murmured, his voice brushing over her like a caress.

　　He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered against her cheek, and for a moment, the air between them shifted, heavy with the kind of connection that didn't need words.

　　Angela pouted, though the warmth of his closeness made it hard to hold onto her mock indignation. "You're infuriating," she said, though her smile betrayed her.

　　"I'll take that as a compliment," Edmund replied, his tone softening. He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "You'll find out soon enough, I promise. Trust me."

　　They sank into the plush couch nearby, the soft cushions enveloping them as their conversation turned to lighter things. Angela rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his hand.

　　"I can't believe it's our second last day here," Angela murmured, her voice tinged with melancholy. "I don't want this to end, Edmund. This island, this time with you, it feels like we've been in our own little world, away from everything. I'm going to miss it. I'm going to miss us like this. It feels like a bubble away from everything else."

　　Edmund turned slightly, lifting her chin with his fingers so her eyes met his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in soothing circles. "I know," he said quietly. "Angela, just because we're leaving doesn't mean any of this ends. But we're not saying goodbye to this. To us. This isn't just a vacation fling, Angela. You know that."

　　She nodded but didn't meet his eyes. "It's just, when we go back, things will change. You'll be busy with work, and I'll be at the dormitory, surrounded by chaos. I'll miss you."

　　"I'm not going anywhere. I'll visit you at your dormitory as often as I can. And don't forget, I wasn't joking when I told your mother about making you an intern. You'll have every excuse to come to the office, to see me. No one will stop you. Not even me."

　　Her lips curved into a small smile, though her eyes still held a hint of melancholy. "Promise?"

　　"Always," Edmund said without hesitation, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

　　Angela leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.

　　The weight of her sadness began to lift, replaced by a quiet hope. She nestled closer to him, and they stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the comfort of each other's presence.

　　But Edmund, ever the one to lighten the mood when it grew too heavy, shifted the conversation with a playful glint in his eye. "You know," he began, a mischievous edge creeping into his voice, "there's something we haven't talked about yet."

　　Angela lifted her head, raising an eyebrow, already suspicious of his sudden shift in demeanor. "Oh? What's that?"

　　"The lingerie." He leaned back slightly, his arm still draped around her shoulders. "Do you remember the shopping trip we had before coming here? Specifically, a certain collection of lingerie we picked out?"

　　Her cheeks turned pink, and she immediately swatted at his arm. "Edmund!"

　　He chuckled, catching her hand again and holding it firmly. "I'm serious. We spent all that time picking them out, yet you haven't worn a few of them yet. A shame, really. That's unacceptable. I was rather looking forward to seeing the full collection."

　　"Unacceptable?" Angela gasped, lightly swatting his arm. "You're impossible!"

　　"Absolutely," he said, his eyes glinting with playful intent. "And I insist you correct this egregious oversight tonight."

　　She tried to glare at him, but his grin was infectious, her blush deepening, and soon she was laughing despite herself. "You're relentless, you know that?"

　　"And you love it," Edmund countered. He leaned in to press a kiss to her temple, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. "Only when it comes to you."

　　Her laughter faded as the warmth of his words settled over her. The intensity in his gaze was disarming, and for a moment, she felt as though the entire world had narrowed to just the two of them.

　　"I'll think about it," she said softly, her voice tinged with playful defiance.

　　"That's my girl. I'll hold you to that," Edmund replied, his lips curving into a knowing smile.

　　The rest of the day passed in a blur of lighthearted moments and shared glances. They walked along the beach, their fingers intertwined, the sun painting the water in shades of gold and sapphire. They shared stories and laughter, their connection deepening with every moment.

　　Angela found herself growing more at ease, her earlier sadness replaced by an anticipation she couldn't quite place.

　　That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Angela excused herself to prepare for the evening. She stood before the mirror in their room, holding up one of the more daring pieces of lingerie they'd picked out. The sheer fabric and delicate lace made her hesitate for a moment, but the thought of Edmund's reaction spurred her on.

　　She bit her lip, her fingers brushing over the delicate fabric of the lingerie she'd chosen a lavender piece that complemented her skin perfectly. The fitted bodice hugged her curves, a daring, deep-cut design that left nothing to the imagination, accentuating every inch of her physique.

　　She hesitated for a moment, her heart racing. But then she thought of Edmund's teasing smile, his soft words, and the way he always looked at her as though she was the only thing that mattered.

　　As she slipped into the lingerie, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. The fabric glided effortlessly over her skin, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. The cut was so revealing, it seemed to be daring anyone who laid eyes on her to get closer. The delicate straps added an extra layer of sensuality, drawing her gaze downwards to the tantalizing expanse of skin they partially exposed.

　　Angela felt like a temptress, a femme fatale, as she adjusted the lacy trim and admired myself in the mirror.

　　When she finally stepped out, Edmund was standing by the window, a glass of wine in his hand, the evening breeze ruffling his dark hair. He turned at the sound of her approach. The moment he turned and saw her, his breath hitched, and his glass froze midway to his lips.

　　"Angela…" he said, his voice low and rough, barely above a whisper. His eyes roamed over her, darkening with admiration and desire. He set the glass down, crossing the room in a few long strides. His hands found her waist, his eyes roaming over her with a mix of admiration and something deeper, more primal.

　　She felt her cheeks heat, but the way he looked at her made her feel beautiful, confident. She looked up at him. "You like it? Does it meet your expectations?" she teased, though her voice wavered slightly.

　　He chuckled softly, his hands sliding up to cup her face. "You've surpassed them. I simply love it," he said, his voice a husky whisper.

　　Edmund's hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer, while Angela's fingers clutched his shoulder.