Chapter 52 Here, Only You Came Near
Harper's heart hammered against her chest, and she instinctively pushed against him. Perhaps the movement hurt him, he frowned.
"Don't squirm. I can't do anything to you," he remarked, sounding deceptively nonchalant.
Her face burned red like an apple, a mixture of embarrassment and irritation. She wanted to scold him but feared Victor outside might overhear. She had to settle for a whispered, fierce glare. "You're bullying me again."
She was unaware of how enticing her reddened cheeks and hushed reproach were. Francis's throat tightened, and his eyes were dark as the depths of a lake.
She was right. If it weren't for the pain holding him back, he would indeed have liked to bully her thoroughly.
But Harper was oblivious to his thoughts. She couldn't forget everything that had happened at the party that day. He had saved her, true, but he had also pushed her away...
Her eyes dimmed with the realization that these were facts that couldn't be ignored.
"Smack—" A soft yet firm tap landed on her well-proportioned thigh, causing Harper's ears to tinge red. She furrowed her brows at him. "What are you doing?"
"Bullying you," he growled, his voice rough, as his lips came close to her again.
In front of him, Harper was like a little rabbit, her resistance futile. Still, she stubbornly turned her head away, denying his lips.
Francis's expression sharpened as he teasingly tilted her chin up. "What's the matter? I can't touch you?"
When he wasn't smiling, his face was unreadable, icy and detached. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet.
Suddenly, the phone on the table rang. It was Harper's. She reached over to him to grab it, careful not to hurt him, her body cautiously avoiding any contact.
To the man, her actions appeared as disgust and rejection, and his gaze became colder, more intimidating.
Harper was unaware of the shift in Francis's mood. Seeing Molly's name on the caller ID, she instinctively felt it wasn't the right time to take the call and considered hanging up.
However, Francis's cold command halted her. "Answer it."
Hesitating for a moment, Harper still obeyed.
"Harper, did you make it home okay? I heard from Keith today..."
"Molly." Harper's heart inexplicably started pounding, cutting her off.
"Huh?"
"I'm fine, really. I'm going to bed."
With that, Harper hung up before Molly could process the abrupt end to the conversation.
The oppressive atmosphere in the room made Harper's skin prickle. But some things couldn't be resolved by staying silent.
Sure enough, Francis's brows were furrowed in a mocking smile as he asked, "He's looking out for you, huh?"
That smile sent an involuntary shiver down Harper's spine. Sometimes, it was better to just clear the air. The misunderstandings weren't fair to them or to the innocent Keith.
After thinking it over, she suggested, "Francis, let's talk."
His dark, hawkish eyes locked onto her, giving nothing away.
Sitting up straighter, Harper felt how close they were. She was almost nestling into his embrace. It was hardly an atmosphere conducive to a serious conversation.
Ignoring the coldness in his gaze, she started, "I know you're worried about Dylan's health. Like you, I want him to stay well. Since we can't divorce for a month, let's lay down some ground rules for living together so we can respect each other's space."
"Ground rules?" A faint smirk lifted the corners of Francis's lips, his expression chilling.
"That's right," Harper continued, gathering her courage, "Firstly, we need to keep our distance. We should avoid getting intimate, and I'm sure you don't want to hurt Chloe's feelings."
Francis didn't respond, just fixed her with an icy stare.
"Secondly, no meddling. I won't pry into your personal life, and I'd appreciate the same courtesy. And stop threatening people close to me."
"The third rule is..." Harper hesitated but then spoke up, "Until we officially divorce, I'd hope you avoid having children. I can't accept it, and neither would our family. Please, take precautions."
Bringing it up was tough but necessary. She didn't want her child to have a father who had another child while still married, though she didn't intend to tell the child about it.
Francis retorted coldly, "No fourth rule? Shall I add one? That I should let you and your Senior carry on unobstructed, right?"
Harper furrowed her brows, "Senior and I aren't..."
He cut her off briskly, "Did you ever consider how Dylan would feel about this? Are you so thoughtless of his health over this man?"
Suddenly, she felt as if a heavy accusation had been thrust upon her. Harper couldn't understand how her normal interactions could pose a risk to Dylan's health.
Dylan never set any boundaries on her socializing with friends.
But now, she didn't want to argue with Francis. She just offered a compromise.
"Don't worry. How would Dylan find out? Trust me, your secret's safe with me. I'll keep your hangouts with Chloe under wraps and not a word to Dylan," she reassured him.
A smirk played at the corner of Francis's lips. For the first time, her empathy grated on him.
Harper was clueless about what he was thinking. She only noticed his increasingly grim expression. She recalled Wesley's comments about his injury.
Not wanting to upset him, she whispered, "I'll be going down now."
Just as she was about to rise, Francis suddenly yanked her back into his embrace, fingers gripping her chin, forcing her to face him.
"After being in my bed, you think you can just leave?" he taunted before leaning in to bite her lip, rough and forcefully.
She was pressed against his chest, and her face was twisted to meet his kiss. The position was uncomfortable.
She whimpered softly, resisting without force.
But a man like him wouldn't be interrupted.
His grip tightened, his tongue swirling as if trying to inhale every bit of air from her mouth.
Harper's face flushed. She struggled for breath, about to cry.
Wanting to pound on him, yet mindful of his injuries, she could only squeeze his arm with fervor.
He winced from the pain but persisted, relentlessly invading.
Tears spilled from Harper's eyes, fast and furious, gradually turning into a small river.
Feeling a twinge of pain in his heart, Francis released her, voice hoarse with emotion, "Honey."
Stunned by the term, tears clung to Harper's cheeks.
'He rarely called me honey...'
In her memory, that endearment was whispered tenderly on their wedding night.
'What does it mean now...'
Francis drew her into his arms, sighing softly, "Stop fussing. I'm still hurting."
His voice was raspy, laced with an inadvertent hint of self-pity.
Harper grew quiet, observing this newfound vulnerability. Her heartstrings quivered at the unexpected tender gesture. As she fell silent, Francis kissed her once more, this time with gentleness.
First her forehead, then her nose, lips, and down her neck.
After taking his time, he declared seriously, "I've never kissed another woman."
His hands roamed restlessly as he teased her with a glimpse at his groin and taunted, "And this, only you came near it."
"What...?" Harper was dazed, her brain stalled.
So much so that she overlooked his continuing advances.
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