Chapter 410 Stealing a Kiss?
The air felt like it was getting thinner by the second.
Harper was struggling to catch her breath.
Luckily, Francis was too busy with her foot to notice her blushing like a tomato.
Watching him work, Harper thought, this wasn't the first time he was playing doctor with her foot.
He always did it so smoothly, like it was no big deal. And he never seemed to mind.
After slapping on some medicine, Francis started massaging her ankle.
He checked it out and figured it wasn't too bad. With some TLC, it should be good by tomorrow.
Francis kept staring at her foot, making Harper squirm a bit.
"Are you done yet?" she asked.
"Yeah." Francis slapped a piece of gauze on her foot to keep it clean.
He should've let go by now, but he was dragging it out.
For a guy who was a total germaphobe, he sure didn't have any issues when it came to her. He could do this all day.
When Francis finally let go, Harper immediately said, "Go wash your hands."
Francis chuckled; he didn't care, but she sure did.
After washing up, he came out of the bathroom.
Harper looked at him and said, "Go crash in Jasper's room on the third floor, and keep it down."
"Okay." Francis cleared his throat and added, "If I hear anything..."
Harper cut him off, "Or, you can just sleep here."
Francis's eyes darkened. "You want me to sleep here?"
"Yeah, if there's any news about Molly, I want to know ASAP." Harper said, trying to stay cool.
Even though Francis said Molly should be fine, it never sounded certain enough for Harper.
Robert had gone nuts before, which had her on edge.
And Robert was Francis's buddy; if he did something crazy, Francis might not spill the beans.
Bottom line, she just didn't trust Francis!
Francis saw the doubt in her eyes and felt a bit hurt.
Harper told him, "Grab a blanket. If you get too close, I'll kick you off the bed."
Francis obediently fetched a blanket and placed it beside the bed.
In the middle, Harper put a long body pillow as a barrier and made him put his phone on the nightstand.
Francis did everything she asked.
Still feeling uneasy, Harper left a night light on.
After all that, she said, "Sleep."
Just as she was about to close her eyes, she caught a glimpse of Francis's unbuttoned shirt, showing off his chiseled chest.
Suddenly, Harper blushed from head to toe.
"Hey, what are you doing?" she said, pulling the blanket over her face, leaving only her fluffy hair sticking out like a cute angel.
Francis's eyes twinkled with amusement, his voice deep as he said, "I can't sleep with my clothes on."
"But you can't sleep naked either!" Harper's muffled voice came from under the blanket.
Francis sighed, "I don't wear a vest under my shirt."
Thinking about it, he was glad he had showered before coming over; otherwise, Harper probably wouldn't even let him shower.
Harper thought about it and mumbled, "In the third drawer on the left, there's a set of pajamas I had custom-made for Jasper. They're new; you can put them on."
Francis's voice had a hint of coldness as he said, "It's good to be your brother."
If she wasn't mistaken, his tone seemed a bit jealous. Was Francis jealous of Jasper?
Harper put down the blanket, and said annoyedly, "Are you going to wear them or not?"
Those were the pajamas she had made herself, and Jasper hadn't even tried them yet.
"They'll do." Francis squinted slightly, slowly slipping his fingers into the sleeves as he took off his shirt.
As he raised his hand, his firm abs and V-line were particularly eye-catching, and he put on the pajamas very slowly.
Harper suspected he was doing it on purpose.
Seeing Francis's sexy body, Harper felt her heart race. She turned her head away and lay down again.
After a while.
The other side of the bed sank down.
Harper's heart suddenly tightened. It had been a long time since she had slept in the same bed with a man, especially one she had been intimate with.
She nervously thought, 'Molly, you better be okay.'
Francis looked at her trembling eyelashes, a smile playing on his lips. "Goodnight," he said.
That deep, magnetic voice made Harper's heart flutter.
"Mm," she mumbled, eyes closed.
Francis's lips curled up, and he stared at her lovely sleeping face without blinking.
Maybe she was really tired because Harper fell asleep pretty quickly.
The bedroom was warm and cozy.
But outside Serenity Manor, things were getting creepy.
Not far away, a black luxury car had its window half-lowered.
Inside the car, a guy wearing a half-white porcelain mask and a black leather glove on his left hand was holding an unfamiliar, high-tech device, aimed right at Harper's bedroom on the second floor. This device was powerful, capable of piercing through the thin window screen and transmitting a clear view of the movements inside.
Seeing the two people sleeping in the same bed, the guy slowly lowered his leather-gloved hand.
Then, there was a crack.
The guy had smashed the car window with his bare hand! His glove was instantly filled with glass shards.
The driver was shocked and exclaimed, "Sir."
The guy's thin lips were tightly pressed together as he pulled off the glove, revealing a hand covered in blood.
The pale, cold skin was also crisscrossed with old scars, looking particularly terrifying.
He nonchalantly put on a new glove, not even bothering to treat the wound.
The driver didn't dare say more and just heard the guy say, "Let's go."
The car started.
The guy turned to look at the second-floor bedroom with the fluttering window screen, and a cold smile suddenly appeared on his face.
Then, his lips moved silently, and it was barely discernible that he was saying, "They're all mine."
Back in the warm bedroom.
Francis propped his head up, looking at the sweetly sleeping Harper, and smiled bitterly.
She actually trusted him too much.
He couldn't tell if this was a blessing or a curse.
Slowly, he leaned down and gently kissed her forehead.
Harper slept soundly, her soft, fragrant body like a drug, making him addicted with just a touch.
Desire surged in his heart, and he was on the edge of losing it.
Francis's eyes darkened as he struggled to keep his desire in check.
He couldn't break the hard-earned trust, even though it was tough. He had already endured for five years and could wait a little longer.
He hoped she would willingly give herself to him.
Reluctantly, he moved his gaze from her face and was about to lie down to rest when he heard, "Honey."
Harper, who was sleeping soundly, suddenly mumbled that.
Instantly, Francis's heart raced.
He gently pinched Harper's cheek, his voice hoarse as he said, "What did you call me?"
Maybe she was uncomfortable from the pinch, Harper dodged and unconsciously hummed.
Francis then realized she was talking in her sleep.
He tensed his body, brushed aside the hair on Harper's fair neck, and coaxed softly, "Harper, call me again."
Harper was dreaming about her fake husband, Allen.
She unconsciously smiled, "You're not my husband."
Francis frowned slightly and corrected, "I am."
Harper was too tired to say anything more.
Francis had no choice but to gently pat her back. "Sleep."
The sky was getting light.
Harper slowly opened her eyes and habitually stretched.
Halfway through, she felt something hard and stopped abruptly.
Looking down, she realized she was grabbing Francis's chest.
She panicked and tried to sit up in a hurry.
But she moved too quickly, got dizzy, and fell onto Francis.
What's worse, her lips brushed against his.
Francis was instantly awakened.
Instinctively, he grabbed Harper's slender waist, flipped over, and pinned her beneath him.
When he saw who it was, his eyes deepened.
Francis loosened his grip and changed to holding her, his voice hoarse as he said, "Stealing a kiss?"
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