Chapter 397 Honey, You Worked Hard Last Night
Catching Gregory's implication, Abigail blushed and glared at him. "Don't say such things."
"I'm not making things up." Gregory grabbed Abigail's delicate hand, brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss, and then quickly walked towards the bedroom.
As the door clicked shut, Gregory's arms encircled Abigail's waist, drawing her into his embrace. The fresh scent of pine surrounded her, eliciting a soft moan. He gently turned her to face him, pressing her tenderly against the door. Abigail wrapped her arms around his neck, responding with fervent passion.
Gregory felt a surge of heat throughout his body, his deep eyes growing darker, filled with desire as he looked at Abigail.
Abigail's breathing became increasingly erratic, almost unable to catch her breath.
But the man showed no intention of letting her go. One hand held her soft waist, while the other roamed restlessly over her body, finally stopping at her chest.
Her breasts changed shape under his palm, the burning sensation spreading like an electric current throughout her body.
Abigail's clear eyes became misty, and her legs truly weakened.
The man couldn't help but chuckle softly, gently biting her cute little earlobe, whispering in her ear, "Can't take it anymore? Hmm?"
The man's deep voice was magnetic, with a slight upward inflection at the end, carrying an indescribable sexiness.
Abigail felt her ears heating up, ultimately becoming a lamb to the slaughter.
As the moment felt right, Gregory's desire surged uncontrollably. He lifted Abigail and carried her to the bed. Clothes fell away piece by piece, their bare skin finally pressing together. Abigail felt his warmth radiate through her, igniting a shared heat.
At the moment of entry, a long-lost pleasure, accompanied by joy, spread around them.
Mindful of Abigail's pregnancy, Gregory held back, ready to stop at the slightest sign of her discomfort. Only when she adjusted did he continue.
Abigail didn't remember when she fell asleep, only that her whole body felt like it was falling apart.
When it was over, she was drenched in sweat, as if she had just been pulled out of the water.
In a daze, Abigail heard the man whisper in her ear, "Abigail, you worked hard. Sleep now."
Perhaps the man's voice was too gentle, and Abigail soon fell asleep.
Abigail awoke to the morning light, stretched languidly, and turned into Gregory's warm embrace. She gazed into his deep, tender eyes.
Abigail's mouth curved into a big smile, and she snuggled into his arms. "Good morning, Gregory."
"Good morning. Did you sleep well last night?"
"Not bad." Abigail nuzzled into Gregory's arms, not wanting to get up.
Gregory chuckled softly, stroking her back. "I have to attend a party tonight. Want to come with me?"
"No, I can't drink." Abigail pouted, a bit disappointed.
Though she seldom craved alcohol, pregnancy imposed many restrictions. Forbidden from eating or drinking much, her once nutritious meals had become so bland they sapped her appetite.
Gregory lowered his head, gently touching her forehead, and comforted her with a smile, "Abigail, you worked hard last night. How about we go out for a walk?"
"You go by yourself. Remember not to drink too much and come back early," as Abigail spoke, she got up and planted a kiss on Gregory's face.
Gregory raised his hand, lightly touching the spot where he had just been kissed, his thin lips curving slightly.
After breakfast, Gregory ruffled Abigail's hair, gave her a few reminders, and then left.
After handling company affairs and having a small meeting, it was almost time.
Today's modest cocktail party, hosted by a prominent Aramore bank president, wasn't Gregory's usual scene. But the chance to find the elusive Tom made it irresistible. Despite Gregory's best efforts, Tom had always managed to slip away just before being reached.
But he had to meet Tom to avoid unnecessary trouble in the future and to ensure Abigail's safety.
He had said that he wouldn't let anyone who wanted to harm Abigail get away.
On the way to the party, Leo said, "I found out that Tom owns several companies abroad, not just StyleSpark."
Gregory didn't say anything, his eyes lowered in quiet contemplation.
His well-defined fingers lightly tapped on the door handle. After a long while, he asked, "Have you found any detailed information on Tom over the years? Any anomalies?"
"No, Tom's social relationships are very simple, almost no suspicious people."
"Okay, I understand. Keep someone watching him, and report to me immediately if there's any movement."
"Yes."
Upon Gregory's entrance into the banquet hall, the room nearly fell silent. People with ingratiating smiles swiftly approached to greet him.
"Hello, Mr. White, I'm the CEO of DreamByte."
"I'm the director of Virtual Vista Villas."
Gregory's cold expression and slight nod left those behind feeling regret, not anger. True to his reputation, he remained aloof and unapproachable, as if no one could capture his attention. Yet, undeterred, they held onto hope; the night was still young.
Gregory walked in, scanning the room, but didn't find the person he was looking for, and couldn't help but frown.
The host of the party, Alan Bennett, excitedly walked over. "Mr. White, your presence here truly honors us."
"Although Alan doesn't have much business with the White Group, your reputation has always been good. I have high hopes." Gregory responded politely.
Hearing this, Alan was even more excited and began to boast, "I'm not being arrogant, but our bank definitely has the best reputation in all of Aramore, and we absolutely guarantee credibility. Mr. White, are you interested in a partnership?"
Gregory took a glass of wine from a waiter, holding it and gently swirling it, listening casually and occasionally responding.
Just when Gregory thought Tom wouldn't show up, a tall, slender figure appeared at the door.
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