Chapter 67 I Won't Touch Him
Quinn's hand wandered on Robert's broad back, making him uncomfortable and stiffen for a moment.
His back was covered in hideous scars, and besides his enchanting face, his back was not a pleasant sight.
Quinn was actually a bit repulsed by it, but that face made her think that these scars were acceptable. Besides, Robert was skilled and treated her well.
How well?
She suspected that if she asked Robert to stab himself, he wouldn't hesitate.
Who wouldn't like a loyal dog with both looks and abilities?
Thinking along these lines, she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for having Robert by her side.
Had it not been for Molly's foolishness, she might never have given Robert, covered in mud as he was at the time, a second thought.
But Molly had given her too much.
The Cane family had declined, relying solely on Robert to hold a place in Northfield.
So, she had to hold on to Robert tightly.
Quinn embraced the man from behind, pressing her face against his back, feeling the tremor deep within him.
"What are you looking at?" she asked again, her eyes catching a glimpse of the marks on Robert's neck, her expression changing. "What happened here?"
She knew Robert fooled around with other women, but he would never let a woman leave marks on him.
The marks on his skin were unmistakably the result of a woman's nails, a fact that left Quinn baffled. With Robert's strong-willed personality, how could he permit a woman to treat him in such a manner?
"It's nothing. I got scratched by a cat yesterday," Robert dismissed the concern with casual nonchalance. He then swiftly lifted her off the ground horizontally, fixing her with a stern glare. "Why are you awake so early?"
Though Quinn harbored doubts about his explanation, she chose not to dwell on it. After all, Robert had assured her that he would refrain from any involvement with other women once they were married.
That was the current state of affairs.
"When you're not in bed, I can't sleep," Quinn hooked her arms around Robert's neck and nuzzled her face against his chest, trying to please him.
Robert smiled. "Missing me?"
"What are you saying? It's early in the morning," Quinn blushed and scolded him.
She was a little unsatisfied and still wanted more, but she didn't want to show it too obviously in front of Robert.
In Robert's eyes, she was still perceived as an innocent girl, and Quinn was wary of shattering that perception.
Yet, her appetite remained unsated.
"We're alone at home, there's nothing to fear," Robert remarked dismissively as he carried her toward the bed, his hand beginning to explore downward. However, Quinn grasped onto him, halting his advances.
"Robert."
Quinn raised her face, showing her charm, and gently rubbed his palm with her fingers, shyly suggesting, "Don't hold back, I don't mind."
She had arrived in the middle of the night under the guise of a nightmare, a pretense to be near Robert, for she yearned for something more intimate. Traditionally, such encounters should be initiated by the man.
Yet, for far too long, Robert had limited their interactions to chaste gestures—kisses on the forehead, on her back—never delving into deeper intimacy.
If she didn't know that he was fooling around outside, Quinn would have thought that he was still a virgin.
Although Robert had promised solemnly from the beginning that he would only have her on their wedding night, she had hinted so clearly, and a man who had self-control like him should not be easily tempted.
Even last night, when she seduced him in her pajamas, he only used his hands.
When she looked at him in the throes of passion, his expression remained calm, as if he was just handling a business matter.
But the more he was like this, the more she wanted to have him.
Who wouldn't want someone with such extraordinary self-control?
The mere thought of the controlled expression he would wear when they finally crossed that threshold ignited a thrill within her.
Now that he seemed to be in the mood, it was the perfect opportunity, but Quinn was pushed away by Robert when she tried to touch him.
Startled, she recoiled, feeling a sense of unease settle over her. No longer comfortable with being the one to initiate, she turned her face away, her unhappiness palpable.
Robert held the back of her head, kissed her cheek, then whispered, "Quinn, I cherish you, and want to give you the best, that's what I'm doing now."
After saying that, his hand started moving.
Quinn loved hearing those words, feeling as if she was being cherished and valued.
She just didn't understand why a man like him cared about their wedding night more than a woman like her.
Thankfully, she had undergone hymen restoration, sparing herself from any potential awkwardness given Robert's emphasis on such matters.
Before she could dwell further on the thought, she surrendered herself to the moment, tightly shutting her eyes and surrendering to the pleasure he bestowed upon her.
...
At dawn.
Harper reached out and touched Francis's forehead. His fever had subsided.
She let out a long sigh of relief and went to the restroom to freshen up.
Suddenly, there was a loud noise outside.
Harper was startled.
Harper hurriedly opened the door and was surprised to see Francis already at the doorstep, knocking over a chair.
She called out, "Francis?"
The man turned his head and his beautiful eyes lit up for a moment.
He stepped toward Harper and without saying a word, tightly embraced her, exerting a force enough to make her ribs ache a bit.
She instinctively tried to break free, but heard Francis say, "I thought you ran away again."
Harper's expression darkened. What did he mean by "ran away again"?
She pushed him away, "Let go first, you're injured."
But he didn't loosen his grip, instead holding her even tighter.
He encircled her and said in a muffled voice, "I promised you not to harm him."
"What?"
Harper didn't quite understand his meaning.
"Mr. Bolton, I will not harm him."
This time Harper understood. Francis's voice seemed reluctant and a bit resentful.
"Okay
"
Francis was angry. This was his biggest concession, and he only got an ‘okay’?
He let go of her, clenching his fists, and said fiercely, "Shouldn't you show some gratitude?"
Harper didn't understand what she should show. In truth, Francis shouldn't have acted against Keith in any way. It was Keith's assistance that had triggered Francis's repeated confrontations with him. Harper believed that Francis owed Keith an apology.
But she didn't dare say that. Francis was too unpredictable.
"There’s nothing going on between me and Keith, so it's only right for you not to harm him," Harper asserted.
"Nothing? Didn't he kiss you? That's certainly something," Francis retorted, his tone laced with scorn. "Harper, since when did you become so forgiving?"
Harper remained silent, unwilling to engage in further argument.
Interpreting her silence as agreement, Francis's anger intensified, and he pulled her closer to him. "You must promise me not to see him, and then I won't harm him."
Aware of his stipulations, Harper felt compelled to clarify, "Keith never kissed me. He doesn't have the intentions you're imagining."
Even though she couldn't comprehend why she felt the need to justify herself to him, the tension in the air was palpable.
It seemed as though they had regressed to a time before, resembling an ordinary couple once again.
"You claim he didn't. But what about that incident in the car that day?" Francis's words dripped with bitterness, his tone sour.
Harper paused, reflecting for a moment before piecing together the events he referenced.
So that was the reason behind his erratic behavior, his decision to drive and confront Keith?
She furrowed her brows slightly, not wanting to argue with a sick person, and calmly explained, "He didn't kiss me at all. It's because the wound on my face got tangled in my hair, and he helped me fix it."
"Really?"
"Why would I lie to you?"
Harper frowned and told him to lie down, saying, "You should rest first."
"Harper," Francis suddenly called her, sounding pleased.
His hand still held onto her, and Harper instinctively felt that they were too close. She tried to pull her hand away and step back.
But before she could take a step, Francis pulled her into his arms.
He lifted her chin with his fingers and looked at her lips with his deep eyes. "Today, your mouth doesn't seem to be as infuriating," he said.
After his words trailed off, his lips descended upon hers. Unlike his customary forcefulness, this time his kiss was gentle, imbued with a hint of tenderness.
Harper was caught off guard by the unexpected change in his demeanor and momentarily ceased her attempts to resist.
Lost in the intensity of their embrace, the sudden opening of the hospital room door jolted them back to reality.
"Francis," Chloe said, forgetting what she wanted to say as she stood frozen at the doorway.
The soft warmth on their lips instantly disappeared, and Harper felt a bit cold and ironic.
She pushed Francis away and took a step back, saying, "I'm leaving."
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