Chapter 73 Mr. Whitman is Jealous
The feeling of being held by him was so good that Evelyn looked up and asked, "When did you arrive?"
He gently kissed her forehead and replied, "Guess."
Playing the guessing game, huh?
Evelyn cast a sidelong glance at him, pondering earnestly. "The day we set out, you set out as well, didn't you? It's just that our departure times differed, perhaps by a slight delay?"
Samuel smiled, lifted her face, and kissed her fiercely twice. "You are truly an astute young lady!"
"At that time when I tried calling you, your phone was consistently off. Even during meetings, you never turned it off. I presume you were on a flight at that moment?" Looking back now, it must have been during that time.
She simply hadn't anticipated his arrival at the time, hence it didn't cross her mind.
"You're so smart. How should I reward you?" he said with a smile, holding her even tighter.
He simply lifted her, seated her on the sofa, allowing her to fully lean against him, his embrace filled with her, a truly wonderful sensation.
To prevent herself from falling, Evelyn opened her arms, hooking them around his neck, and continued to voice all the questions in her mind. "So, the first-class tickets and the Rolls-Royce were also your doing?"
"Indeed!" he nodded, not denying it in the slightest.
"You also arranged Cathy's meeting with a client?" Her voice rose, tinged with a hint of doubt.
"Yes!"
"Don't abuse your power like this!" She pushed him with a small fist. "It's late at night, and you let a girl go to see a client alone. What if something happens?"
Obviously, everything was well arranged for him to appear here smoothly, and Cathy happened to be away.
However, she felt uneasy about putting others in danger just for their amusement.
"You care about her." For some reason, there was a hint of jealousy in his words.
"She's my colleague and also my friend. It's natural to care about friends!" Evelyn thought for a moment. "I'll call her back!"
Samuel stopped her from reaching for her phone and said, "You have to think it over. If you call her back now, I'll have to leave because our relationship is not suitable for the public."
Evelyn looked at him, feeling reluctant.
They had just met, and she didn't want him to leave so soon.
However, it was already late. She felt sorry for Cathy being alone outside.
"We can't let her be alone outside because of us," she said, pulling her hand away. "We still have time. We can go back after we finish here, and we'll see each other every day."
"Is she more important to you than I am?" The unmistakable jealousy in Samuel's tone couldn't be masked.
Evelyn glanced at him sideways, "Are you feeling jealous?"
"Yes!" he said, not considering jealousy as something to be ashamed of and even looking a little proud.
"She's a girl! You don't have to be jealous of one of my female friends," Evelyn said.
"Jealousy doesn't require a specific target," he retorted.
Well, dealing with an irrational, jealous man left little room for sensible explanations or communication.
"Well, I think it's an honor to make Mr. Whitman jealous. But..." She paused, cupped his face with one hand, and said, "We should also consider others. I'll give her a call to see how she's doing and make sure she's safe. You can stay a little longer, at least!"
Then she quickly pecked him on the lips and dialed the phone.
Samuel didn't say anything. She was persuasaive, and she kissed him, making it difficult for him to refuse.
"Cathy, have you arrived? How's it going over there?" Evelyn asked tentatively. She didn't know if the client was a real client or a fake one arranged by Samuel. However, it was always right to make sure her friend was safe.
"How much longer? Come back early, and remember to call me if you have anything. Ah!"
As the conversation wound to a close, Samuel lightly pinched her waist, eliciting an involuntary gasp from her.
Shooting him a quick glance, she hastily reassured over the phone, "It's nothing. I just accidentally bumped my foot. It's nothing to worry about! Take care of yourself, alright? Bye for now!"
She hung up the phone in a hurry and went to stop his wandering hand. "Don't cause trouble."
"I didn't say a word. I didn't even make a sound. How am I causing trouble?" he said innocently.
"You didn't say anything, but your hand was mischievous," Evelyn said, imitating him, and reached out to pinch his waist.
However, he did not react at all, not even a subconscious dodge.
Evelyn stared at him with wide eyes. Was he still a human? No reflex at all?
"You see, I didn't touch your foot. So, it's your problem, not mine."
Evelyn was furious.
He even imitated her way of speaking! Not cute at all!
She tried to break free from his embrace. However, he held her tighter, then turned her over and pressed her on the sofa, his eyes burning with desire.
The sudden closeness forced Evelyn to look at his face. Even at such a close distance, she couldn't find any flaws in his features. God really favored him!
Slowly raising his hand, Samuel watched as her hand got closer and closer to his face, then it touched him and slowly caressed along the contours of his face.
"How about it?" He glanced at her hand, allowing her to be presumptuous. "Are you beguiled by my charm?"
"Yes." Evelyn nodded seriously. "Your handsome appearance is really charming!"
"Since that's the case, we shouldn't waste it. Let's enjoy it." His voice was hoarse, with a seductive power of a low male voice, as if it had magnetism, deeply attracting her and engulfing her.
"That's exactly what I had in mind!" She smiled and forcefully hooked his neck, kissing those lips that seduced her.
However, after a brief two-day separation, her heart and mind were filled with thoughts of him.
Upon seeing him, a flood of overflowing yearning surged forth. She desired only to embrace him and never let go.
The heat within the room escalated sharply. Samuel held her tightly, fervently wishing to meld her into his very bones. "Evelyn, Evelyn!"
Softly, Samuel called out her name.
Evelyn's mind was a bit muddled, consumed entirely by him, her fingers sliding into the collar of his shirt, the exquisite garment already marred beyond recognition.
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