Chapter 579 The Tipsy Troublemaker
Oliver waited a few seconds for a response but got none, so he scooped her up and carried her toward the bathroom.
She might not be as much of a germaphobe as he was, but she always liked to be clean, especially after a day of running around outside, drinking, and having a barbecue; she surely would want a shower.
Just as Oliver was about to enter the bathroom, Natalie suddenly opened her eyes, looked at him earnestly, and nodded her head, "I want to take a shower."
Oliver let out a soft chuckle. She took a whole minute to respond to him.
He gently placed Natalie next to the bathtub, holding her waist with one hand while he pressed the bathtub's starter button with the other. He turned on the faucet and the bathtub began to fill with hot water.
Natalie usually preferred the water a bit hotter, so Oliver turned up the default temperature by three degrees before starting to undress her.
She sat there calmly, letting him help without any of the resistance he had expected.
As he peeled off her short-sleeved blouse and caught a glimpse of the snowy whiteness beneath, Oliver's eyes hardened, his gaze suddenly deepening with a visible swallow.
After staring for a couple seconds, he forced his eyes away.
"Natalie?"
"Mhm?"
"Do you remember what happens when you're drunk after you've sobered up?" Oliver asked, almost involuntarily, his mind wandering with what ifs.
His gaze lingered on her crimson lips before slowly drifting away...
"I remember," Natalie drawled.
Disappointed, Oliver pursed his lips.
She laughed, a bit foolishly. "Jane says, 'You don't remember.'"
His irritation melted into amusement as he cupped the back of her head and kissed her fervently, "You little drunkard, still teasing."
"I'm sleepy," Natalie complained with closed eyes, leaning against the wall, the image of exhaustion.
It seemed like she was nudging Oliver to hurry up with the bath.
Sighing, Oliver peeled off her clothes and carried her into the bathtub, fighting his entire body's surging impulses as he washed her.
He wanted to, but, ultimately, he couldn't bear to upset her.
The bathtub's design was ergonomically comfortable, and Natalie lounged in it with ease, her head resting against the tub's edge.
Just when Oliver thought she had dozed off, she murmured something.
His ear couldn't catch the quiet whisper, so he bent down close.
"Sweetheart, what did you just say?"
"...Shampoo."
Natalie, drained of strength, barely lifted a hand towards her hair, signaling a wash.
"Tomorrow, okay?" Concerned she wouldn't dry her hair in time and risk catching a cold sleeping with damp hair, Oliver suggested postponing.
"I won't!"
She refused without hesitation, insisting again, "Shampoo!"
Oliver stroked her fine, smooth hair—rarely could you find such quality.
"You'll get sick if we do it today," he said, his tone easy-going.
Natalie strained to open her eyes.
She squinted at Oliver for a moment before shaking her head, "Won't get sick."
She was clearly far gone in her drunkenness.
Oliver sat down beside the tub and turned on the bathtub's heater to maintain the water temperature.
"Natalie, you're not in any condition to wash your hair right now."
Natalie nodded, tilted her head to look at Oliver, and said, "You do it."
She knew she wasn't great at washing hair, so she enlisted his help.
Oliver was caught between laughter and tears, momentarily at a loss for words.
It took more than ten minutes to wash her hair as Natalie nearly dozed off in the bathtub several times, insisted on getting her hair properly washed—a persistence Oliver couldn't quite grasp.
Outmatched by her stubbornness, he eventually capitulated, clumsily gathering her long hair in his hands and saturating it with water, gently lathering it with shampoo.
"Here!"
After a while, Natalie pointed to a still-dry patch on her scalp to indicate "wash here too."
Worn down by her insistence, Oliver complied with each of her requests.
To make things easier, he stepped into the tub fully clothed, letting her lean against him for better access to her head.
"Washing... smells... nice," she mumbled hazily.
The smell was due to the smoky scent of a recent barbecue.
Oliver wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused.
Throughout the hair-washing ordeal, Oliver couldn't help but question:
Why do women keep long hair? Isn't long hair hard to wash?
By the time he finished washing Natalie's hair, half an hour had elapsed.
The delicate girl was still asleep in his arms, her breathing steady and soft, her cheeks flushed with warmth from the hot water.
"Natalie?"
Oliver called her name twice, but all he got in response was her snuggling closer into his chest and continuing her slumber.
Carefully, Oliver wrapped her in a towel and carried her to bed, laying her across it with her hair hanging over the edge.
He reached for the hairdryer, turned it on to test the noise level, which turned out to be quite loud. He then opened the door and gestured for the lurking bodyguard to approach.
"Get a quiet hairdryer. Hurry." The noise of a regular one would disturb Natalie's sleep.
The bodyguard replied, "Yes, sir."
Finding a quiet hairdryer at this late hour wasn't Oliver's concern.
In less than ten minutes, the bodyguard returned triumphantly with an unopened, silent hairdryer.
Natalie's sleeping habits were meticulous—same even when she had too much to drink. From the moment Oliver laid her on the bed to when her hair was completely dry, she lay still and compliant.
After setting aside the hairdryer and tucking Natalie into bed, Oliver finally went to the bathroom to tend to himself.
Only then did he realize how soaked his clothes were from the earlier task. He hadn't even noticed it at the time.
After giving Natalie a bath and washing her hair, followed by taking care of the aftermath, Oliver spent well over two hours, while his own shower barely lasted half an hour, mainly because he had to attend to certain needs.
Natalie's soft body and coquettish behavior continually pricked at his brain, a temptation he persistently resisted.
Slipping into bed, Oliver gently pulled Natalie into his arms, lowering his head to take a deep breath. His nostrils filled with her natural scent, now mingled with the fragrance of shampoo and body wash.
He typically didn't care for additional scents on her, believing her own was the most pleasant.
But today was different, these scents were ones he had painted on her.
"Goodnight, darling," he whispered, planting a customary kiss on her forehead. Today marked progress - no need for the little schemes of yesterday.
Natalie wasn't fully awake yet; her first sensation was a throbbing headache.
"Mmm..."
"You up?" he asked as she struggled to open her eyes. In her view was his well-built chest, the muscles defined but not overly so, just right in appearance. And her nose was pointed directly at... that little red mole.
It had been too long since Natalie had been this close to Oliver. As she realized the intimacy, she jerked backward, only to find she couldn't move.
She was firmly locked in Oliver's embrace... wait.
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