Chapter 409 The Little Traitor
Harper glanced up at the gloomy sky, worried there might be a thunderstorm tonight.
Even though the car had AC, she wasn't sure if there were any blankets or anything cozy inside.
Plus, Francis wasn't in the best shape, and crashing in the car might mess him up more.
There was radio silence from the other side.
Harper suddenly realized what she had said, wondering why she couldn't help but care about him.
She regretted it so much she wanted to bite her tongue. "Maybe you should head back. I need to sleep too."
As she spoke, she tried to yank the curtains shut—out of sight, out of mind.
"Are you taking your offer back? Want me to ring the doorbell?" Francis's voice sounded a bit rushed, like he was running.
Harper was stunned and looked towards the car, but there was no one there.
Looking down, she saw Francis had already sprinted to the front door.
She exclaimed, "How did you get in?"
Her villa's gate needed facial recognition, and only pre-registered folks could get in.
Francis said, "Agnes registered me."
Harper thought, 'Agnes, you little traitor.'
Francis reminded her, "Waiting for you to open the door."
"Oh." Harper regretted it, but the words had already slipped out.
She tiptoed on the carpet in her fluffy open-toe slippers and went downstairs to open the door.
The door swung open.
Francis's handsome face was bathed in the moonlight, looking annoyingly attractive.
Harper's heart skipped a beat. She hated herself for always being charmed by his perfectly sculpted face.
"Come in." She turned her face away to dodge any eye contact.
Francis stepped in and closed the door behind him.
Harper was rocking a beige silk nightgown with white lace trim and fluffy open-toe slippers.
Her freshly washed face was clean and beautiful, and her body looked soft and pink, super tempting.
Francis's eyes darkened, and he said, "You look good."
"What?" Harper asked.
Francis's voice was soft, and Harper didn't quite catch it.
Francis moved closer and said, "The nightgown looks good on you."
Harper was very sensitive to Francis's closeness.
She stepped back and said, "Don't get so..."
Before she could finish, Zoey's room light suddenly flicked on.
Then, the door opened from the inside.
In a panic, Harper pushed Francis back against the door, stood on tiptoe, and reached out to cover his mouth to keep him quiet.
But she forgot about their height difference, and as she raised her hand, she lost her balance.
Francis quickly extended his arms, wrapped them around Harper's waist, and pulled her close.
In an instant, Harper's whole face was pressed against Francis's chest.
All she could hear was his strong, steady heartbeat, pounding, transmitting, and affecting her.
A couple of noises came from the kitchen again; it was Zoey getting up for water.
Francis seemed to sense her tension, his hand on her back, gently soothing her.
The burning warmth successfully made Harper even more nervous.
Her heart was racing, and even her breathing became a bit rapid.
Finally, Zoey finished her night routine and went back to her room.
Harper couldn't wait to step back, but her feet felt like they were stuck.
"Don't move," Francis's husky voice whispered in her ear.
Harper's right hand was suddenly caught in his grip.
She stiffened and instinctively tried to pull away, but Francis slid his hand down her back, to her fingertips, and gently squeezed.
Then, his dry, slender fingers slowly pried open each of her fingers, interlocking them tightly.
His sudden intimate move made Harper's heart race like crazy.
After what felt like forever, Harper finally found her voice and looked up. "You..."
Francis's face suddenly lowered, his lips brushing against her earlobe, his Adam's apple moving as he said, "Zoey's out again."
Sure enough, the door squeaked again.
Zoey had forgotten to turn off the kitchen light.
Francis stayed close, his lips near her right ear, his warm breath gently brushing against it like a clear, purposeful silent invasion.
Harper's ears quickly turned red, the heat spreading to her face, making her look pink and enticing.
Francis tilted his head slightly, his thin lips touching her earlobe. A light touch caused a slight sting.
Harper quickly clapped her hands to her mouth as she almost cried out.
Did he just bite her?
As the door closed, Harper's ears were still tingling, her watery eyes looking at him. "You..."
"What?" Francis's expression was calm, as if what happened was an accident.
Harper struggled to find words, standing there dumbfounded.
How could she ask him if he bit her? What if he didn't? How embarrassing would that be?
Harper bit her lips, her heart in chaos.
"Forget it," she said.
"Forget what?" Francis looked at her deeply.
"Nothing," Harper replied.
Francis casually remarked, "Your heart seems to be beating a bit fast."
Harper pressed her lips together, ignored him, and said in her heart, 'It's all your fault.'
"Let's go," she said irritably.
As soon as she took a step, she felt a pain in her right foot.
It seemed she had accidentally twisted it earlier.
However, her body suddenly lifted off the ground.
Harper was startled, covering her mouth. She was in Francis's arms.
He asked, "Did you twist your ankle?"
"Yeah, I can walk..." Before she could finish, Francis was already carrying her upstairs.
Francis, tall and long-legged, quickly reached the bedroom upstairs.
Then, he carefully placed her on the bed and started to take off her shoes.
Harper didn't have time to stop him, and her twisted foot was already in Francis's hands.
Harper was momentarily stunned; he really didn't mind at all.
"It should be fine," she said.
She knew her body well; the slight pain shouldn't be serious and would probably be fine by morning.
But Francis wasn't reassured and asked, "Where's the first aid kit?"
Harper pointed to the bottom shelf.
Francis brought the first aid kit over, knelt on the bed with one knee, and then lifted her leg onto his thigh.
Harper's face instantly turned red. The position with her legs apart, her right calf right above Francis's firm, taut thigh, was very unseemly.
Her skirt was lifted, and her skin felt the heat through the thin fabric of his pants.
Harper's legs stiffened as she dreaded touching any part of his body that she shouldn't.
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