Chapter 541 Yvette, I Love You
Back in their bedroom, Yvette settled into bed with lingering unease. Her body, still weak from recent ordeals, surrendered to exhaustion the moment her head hit the pillow. Thoughts of Albert watching over the children brought her some comfort as sleep claimed her once more.
Her mind never fully let go of her worry, and she woke early the next morning, padding quietly toward the children's room. When she pushed open the door, she found Albert positioned between the two small forms, his vigilant gaze moving back and forth between BoBo and CiCi, ensuring their peaceful rest.
At the soft creak of the door, he looked up to meet her eyes. Albert appeared utterly drained—bloodshot eyes rimmed with dark circles, his usually immaculate hair disheveled from the sleepless night. The exhaustion etched across his features told the story of his unwavering vigil.
"You're awake?" he asked quietly, carefully extracting himself from between the children.
"Yes. Should I take over?" Yvette nodded toward the sleeping forms.
Albert glanced at his watch. "No need. Beatrice and the others will be here soon to relieve me. You should rest."
"How are they?" Worry flickered in her eyes as she studied the children's faces.
"Their fevers broke around five or six this morning. They're fine now."
Yvette studied him—this man who commanded aircraft and controlled corporate empires, yet had spent an entire night sleepless over two feverish children. The contrast stirred something tender within her chest.
"You didn't sleep at all?" Her voice carried unmistakable concern.
Between his demanding work schedule, the constant travel for her medical care, and now this night-long vigil, he'd had precious little rest. Guilt gnawed at her—if only her body weren't failing, he wouldn't bear such burdens.
"I might have dozed briefly," Albert murmured, unable to hide his fatigue.
A gentle knock interrupted them. "Mr. Valdemar, Mrs. Valdemar, please go rest. We'll take over here," came the servants' voices from the hallway.
Yvette waved him toward the door with playful authority. "Go sleep. The staff and I have everything under control—surely you can trust that?"
Albert paused, a hint of mischief breaking through his exhaustion. "Just like that? I should simply go rest?"
"Yes, we've already said we'll handle—"
"Aren't you going to keep me company?" he interrupted, his tone carrying an unmistakable invitation.
Yvette feigned innocence. "I've had enough sleep."
"Well, I say you haven't," Albert declared with mock sternness, wrapping his arms around her slender waist and guiding her back toward their bedroom.
They tumbled together onto the expansive, plush bed. Albert's fingers traced the soft curve of her cheek as he whispered against her ear, "Sleep a little longer with me?"
His larger frame enveloped her completely as Yvette nestled willingly into his embrace, her head finding its natural place on his arm, her body pressed against his solid chest in practiced intimacy. They seemed magnetically drawn together, two pieces of a puzzle clicking into place.
Just as Albert prepared to tease her, a muffled voice emerged from against his chest.
"Thank you for everything, Albert."
The awkward yet heartfelt words struck him like lightning. He hadn't considered his efforts a hardship, but knowing she recognized his devotion moved him profoundly. His arms tightened around her as if he could absorb her into his very being. He was exhausted, yes, but willingly so.
"It's what I should do. Thank you for understanding, Mrs. Valdemar," his voice rumbled low and intimate.
The formal address caught her off guard, though she quickly embraced it. Without question, she was Mrs. Valdemar—Albert's wife. The thought of how much longer she could claim that title made her throat constrict with emotion.
Yvette's nose tingled as tears threatened. She sniffled softly and tightened her arms around him in response.
Sensing her emotional shift, Albert tilted her face up to meet his gaze. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her nose flushed pink, lashes damp with unshed tears.
Not knowing what had triggered her sadness but feeling his heart clench in response, Albert cupped her face and pressed a gentle kiss to each eyelid. The salt of her tears touched his lips, and his rough thumb began stroking her cheek in soothing circles.
His kisses traveled downward—to her reddened nose, then to her soft, trembling lips. His tongue traced the seam of her mouth, coaxing her to open for him. The fresh taste of mint toothpaste flooded his senses as he deepened the kiss, pouring all his tenderness into the connection.
The unexpected intimacy interrupted Yvette's melancholy thoughts. Heat bloomed through her body as she instinctively responded to his touch. Their tongues danced together, breathing becoming labored as desire built between them.
Yvette could feel his body's undeniable response pressed against her, along with the restraint he exercised. This kiss, though charged with physical need, remained primarily an communion of souls.
As their kiss intensified, Albert forced himself to pull back, knowing he couldn't continue. He rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily, chests rising and falling in uneven rhythm.
Suddenly, Albert drew in a sharp breath, his expression tightening.
"What's wrong?" Yvette asked with immediate concern.
A flicker of discomfort crossed his features. "It hurts a bit."
"What hurts?"
Following his meaningful glance downward, understanding dawned on her face. Despite their countless intimate encounters, she still felt heat rise in her cheeks as she quickly averted her gaze.
Blinking up at him with unmistakable challenge in her eyes, she asked, "Do you need me to help with that?"
"Help me?" His voice turned husky and predatory, like a panther stalking prey. His thumb pressed firmly against her swollen lips with warning pressure. "Are you certain about that offer?"
Yvette's tone turned deliberately innocent. "Such a shame my health won't allow me to help you properly right now."
Recognizing her teasing game, Albert's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with desire. He tilted her chin up and claimed her mouth again, this time with greater intensity, his teeth grazing her lips in gentle punishment.
"Who says you can't help?" he murmured against her lips, guiding her hand downward along his body.
Yvette startled, shooting him an indignant look. "Are you seriously this worked up right now?"
Albert chuckled low. "Is it too much for you to handle?"
His shameless confidence both frustrated and intoxicated her, leaving her dizzy from his kisses and touch. Her wrist remained captured in his grip as he guided her movements, her mind growing hazy with sensation.
In the end, she heard him whisper her name like a prayer.
"Yvette, I love you."
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