Chapter 26
Harper had one foot halfway into her slipper, the other still in the air.
At his words, she sat back onto the bed with a nervous chuckle, "I wasn't actually leaving."
Francis arched a perfect eyebrow and called out, "Harper?" His voice was uncharacteristically tender.
But Harper knew all too well—the gentler his voice, the deeper the malice hidden within and the more dangerous he became.
She gawked at him.
He flashed a wry smile, "I'm not that bad, am I?" Two years, and she still hadn't warmed up to him.
Suddenly, he didn't want an answer. Moving closer, he held her in his arms.
He led her hand to touch his chiseled jawline, and she could feel the faint impressions of teeth marks. He murmured low and husky, "You're such a fierce little wolf cub."
His voice, amplified by the night, was seductively deep.
Francis leaned in, nipping her ear, his voice now raspy, "If anyone laughs at me tomorrow, you'll be in for it."
Harper's heartbeat skipped. The long-missed intimacy unsettled her. She tried to push him away, but he was immovable.
His heavy voice growled beside her ear, "Stay still. Just... go to sleep."
There might have been a hint of exhaustion and grievance hidden in his tone, or perhaps it was her imagination.
His hand, light on her waist, seared through her clothes, radiating a warmth that made her shiver.
Her heart pounded. She didn't want him to find out about her racing heart, so she tried hard to calm herself down.
Behind her, Francis pinched her gently, his voice laced with annoyance, "Relax. I said I won't do anything tonight."
Harper remained silent. 'Does he have to put it so bluntly?'
He hugged her from behind, not too tightly, but that comforting warmth was undeniable.
'So warm. So soothing,' she thought.
Harper had always been sensitive to the coldness. During the winter, she would huddle in Francis's arms for warmth.
Now, in early autumn, she wondered if she could endure the coming winter nights without him.
Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion, but Harper swiftly drifted into a deep sleep.
She lay on her side, black hair cascading over the pillow, unveiling her delicate ear—a tempting vision of beauty.
Francis felt a sudden urge to kiss her, starting at her ear and wanting to kiss her all over.
His longing for her remained unquenched, only intensifying with each moment passed.
This woman was like an addictive drug.
He recalled his own anxious rush back despite the torrential rain, driven by concern for her safety.
He hadn't expected his own judgment to falter.
A shadow passed over Francis's eyes as he slowly reined in his ardor.
...
The next morning, sunlight streamed gently through the window.
Harper woke up naturally, stretching languidly only to bump her elbow against a warm chest.
She was dumbfounded.
Her mind was blank for a moment as she looked down to find her legs entwined with his leg like willow branches twined around a sturdy oak.
She suddenly sat up in bed, trying to escape, but a strong tug at her waist pulled her back against a warm body. A large hand rested on her midsection.
Harper stiffened for a few seconds, then remembered she was recovering at the Moou Residence, so it was perfectly normal for Francis to be in bed with her.
"Did you sleep well?" Francis's voice was raspy with remnants of sleep.
"Um, fine," she replied.
Francis buried his face in the crook of her neck and mumbled, "Can't say the same for me."
Harper moved a little, trying to put some distance between them, but was stopped by his sharp command.
"Stay still."
She shuddered, almost to tears.
She felt the change in his body and was petrified.
A tense silence ensued.
Then she felt his fingertip tracing circles on her arm, causing her to ask in a trembling voice, "Do... do you feel fine?"
"What do you think?" Francis propped his head on his arm, eyeing her with interest.
"I guess you're fine," Harper said without much thought, feeling the awkward tension since they hadn't been this intimate for a while.
"Harper," Francis reached to brush the hair from her neck. His long, attractive fingers were toying with her earlobe when he said in a deep and seductive voice, "When have I ever finished so quickly?"
Harper's face turned scarlet, her ears burning with the flush of embarrassment.
While admiring the reddened lobe between his fingers, Francis's lips curved slightly, "Hmm? Will you help me?"
"..."
'Why is this man suddenly so full of insinuations?'
She couldn't deal with it. Shrinking back slightly, with a hint of defensiveness, she said, "I need to get up now."
Francis didn't stop her, loosening his grip, and she dashed to the restroom like a rabbit on the run.
After sitting there for a while, she re-emerged to find the bed empty.
She let out a sigh of relief. The bathroom was hers for now. Francis must've decided to shower in another room. And with the time inching toward 8 A.M., he was probably already off to the office.
Calling through the door, she tentatively asked, "Auntie, could you help me with my bath?"
Auntie's voice floated up from downstairs, "Be right there!"
Harper felt guilty for bothering Auntie, but she couldn't manage it alone. After filling the bath, she removed her nightgown and eased into the tub. She rested her arm on edge, with a towel underneath to keep it dry.
Before long, the bathroom door swung open. Harper was still submerged, her arm steady on the rim of the tub. Without turning around, she murmured, "I'm almost done, Auntie. Please towel me dry."
Silence lingered until her eyes met the tall, relaxed figure of a man reflected in the glass. Arms crossed, he was attentively watching her.
"Francis, h-how are you...?" Harper sputtered, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Without anything nearby to cover herself up, she felt exposed and vulnerable.
Francis leaned against the doorframe, an amused arch in his brow, "Auntie had to step out for an errand. She asked me to fill in."
"Get out!" Her indignation was palpable.
"Are you sure?" He remained by the doorway, the very picture of a gentleman.
Harper faced a dilemma. She couldn't stay in the tub forever because the water would cool, risking a cold. If her wound worsened, she might need IVs and shots. However, due to her pregnancy, she couldn't take medication.
With no other option, she bit her lip and stammered, "Just... don't look, okay?"
Francis entered the room, his demeanor crisp and impeccable. He chuckled lightly, "Why the shyness? There's nothing I haven't seen before."
Harper was mortified, her voice a whisper, "Can't you have some decency?"
She couldn't figure him out. He was angry one day and a different person the next, playing with her emotions.
The crystalline ripples in the tub sparked an allure. His gaze deepened. From above, it seemed contemplative and probing.
Flustered, Harper's face burnt red, "You... close your eyes."
"All right," he agreed with a grin, bowing down to lift her from the water. As Harper found her footing, she inadvertently fell into his embrace, soaking his freshly changed clothes.
A bit embarrassed, Harper watched as Francis wrapped her in a towel. He whispered, "You owe me one."
Puzzled, Harper asked, "How do I make it up?"
In a swift move, she was up in his arms and perched on the counter. Her eyes widened just as his lips claimed hers.
"Mm—"
Her words were muffled by his kiss, murmurs of "This is how you'll repay me," blending into the intimacy.
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