Chapter 341 Don't Hurt My Brother
Francis's lips met hers, sending a wave of heat through him.
His heart felt like it was free-falling, every part of him aching to hold and kiss her, the longing almost painful.
Since Harper came back, the mix of losing and regaining her, the rollercoaster of emotions, made him want to merge with her completely.
But Francis held back, giving her a gentle kiss filled with deep attachment.
A few seconds later, Harper snapped out of it and angrily punched him in the chest.
Francis groaned and was likely hit on the wound.
Harper's hand softened, but her face still showed embarrassment and anger.
"Harper," Francis said, cupping her face. "Punching me makes you worried, right?"
"Says who," Harper retorted, raising her fist again but stopping, remembering how he had protected her.
Francis chuckled, his fingers brushing her lips. "They still remember me."
Harper blushed. "Don't be thick."
Francis's eyes burned as he stared at her. "What if I can prove it?"
Before she could react, Francis's face was close again.
"You," Harper started, but Francis bit her lip lightly, sending a tingling sensation through her.
His hands gripped her back, his tongue prying her teeth open.
Even injured, he was strong, holding her so tightly she could barely move.
His possessiveness was palpable, as if he wanted to merge with her.
Half-naked, his hot body rubbed against her through thin clothing, igniting a spark.
Harper's body instinctively followed his lead.
She remembered his words about her lips and her torso remembering him.
Suddenly, a loud crash shattered the car's windshield, triggering the alarm and unlocking the doors.
Harper panicked, and before she could react, the car door was yanked open.
A pair of large hands pulled her out roughly but carefully.
Once steady, she saw a man punching Francis in the car, fast as lightning.
It was the first time Francis had been punched in the face. His eyes turned cold, and he twisted the man's arm against the car.
Francis swung back, but before his fist could land, a cry came from behind. "Jasper!"
Harper's eyes widened.
Francis's face was terrifyingly cold, his aura overwhelming.
Harper screamed, "Don't hurt my brother."
Hearing her, Francis stopped.
Their eyes met, and Francis realized it was Jasper, Harper's brother. He couldn't hit him back!
Harper's heart settled, her voice trembling, "Jasper, when did you..."
Before she could finish, Jasper took advantage of Francis's hesitation and landed another punch.
Francis spat out blood, half his face numb, mouth full of the metallic taste.
But he held back for Harper's sake.
Francis lowered his eyes, enduring Jasper's relentless punches.
In a real fight, Jasper couldn't match Francis, who had been trained as a fighter since childhood. Even injured, Francis wouldn't be at a disadvantage.
But fighting Jasper would make Harper hate him more, so he restrained himself.
Jasper kept punching, aiming to draw blood.
He had rushed over from the airport after hearing from Isla that Harper had been taken by Francis.
Seeing Francis half-naked, holding Harper in the car, Jasper thought Francis was forcing her, fueling his rage.
At this moment, Jasper didn't care about Francis's status, acting solely as a protective brother.
Harper was still in a daze, not understanding how the fight started.
Victor and Isla rushed over.
Seeing the situation, Victor wanted to help but was stopped by a gesture from Francis.
Watching Francis take punch after punch without fighting back, Victor panicked. "Mrs. Getty, no... Ms. Murphy, please stop Mr. Murphy, Mr. Getty is still injured."
Harper snapped out of it and quickly said, "Jasper, stop!"
But Jasper, consumed by rage, couldn't hear her, his punches unstoppable.
Seeing Francis not fighting back, Harper's heart tightened, a painful ache spreading.
She hurried forward to pull Jasper away, but his punch sent her flying towards the car door frame.
Her face was about to hit the sharp edge, aimed directly at her eye.
At the critical moment.
"Harper!" Francis shouted.
He pushed Jasper away and used his body to shield her.
Her face hit his solid chest, narrowly escaping injury.
But Francis's wound hit the frame, his face contorting in pain, his complexion pale.
Jasper realized his mistake and was instantly filled with regret.
He grabbed Harper's arm, asking nervously, "Harper, are you okay?"
Harper shook her head numbly, her face pale.
"Are you really okay?" Jasper was still worried.
Harper saw Francis behind Jasper and he was clutching his shoulder.
Francis's face and body were covered in injuries, especially his shoulder, where the bandage was stained red again. A feeling of bitterness and sadness welled up in her heart.
It was strange, why did her heart ache so much seeing Francis injured, as if some hidden memory was being awakened.
Francis had protected her again, shielding her from harm.
Fragmented images flooded her mind, and Harper's head began to throb painfully.
Holding her head, she looked at Jasper with a pained expression, pleading, "Jasper, take me away."
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