Chapter 212
“You’ve put on some weight, its nice, Rhett whispered as he wrapped his arms around Kristin from behind, watching her arrange a bouquet of flowers.
Kristin’s body tensed under his touch, her discomfort palpable.
“Ouch.” Rhett reached for a rose on the table, not noticing the thorn until it pricked his finger, leaving a small bead of blood.
Kristin’s hands flew to his finger, her eyes wide and worried as she looked up at him.
“Kristin,” he said softly, their faces inches apart, the air charged with unspoken tension.
“Mmm…” Kristin murmured, avoiding his gaze as she tried to remove the thorns from the rose.
“The red rose withstands the wind and harsh weather far better than the white,” Rhett said, taking the rose from her. “Roses are meant to have thorns; getting pricked isn’t their fault.”
Kristin looked up at him, her eyes fluttering.
Rhett sighed and leaned in to kiss her.
The scoundrels who had hurt Kristin had left her wary and scarred, but he knew it would take patience and
tender care to heal her.
There was no need to hurry; time was their ally. And as for those who had screwed over Kristin, they’d get what’s coming to them–because payback’s a bitch.
Kristin’s breathing quickened, her cheeks flushed as Rhett pulled her into his embrace, backing her into the bathroom.
His kiss was fiery yet soothing.
She felt dizzy, as if she were truly succumbing to him. She knew she was done for.
Caught in Rhett’s gentle trap, she was too deep to escape–even knowing it was a trap.
“Kris…” Rhett’s voice was husky, his words simple but meant to comfort her.
His fingers trailed down her spine as he whispered in her ear, “Will you let go complet
Trust, dependency, and responsibility–will she put them all in his hands.
Kristin’s rigid body slowly relaxed, trapped between Rhett and the wall as he stripped away her clothes.
“Summer…” she stammered, her voice shaky.
st me?”
“Our son’s a good boy. He won’t come downstairs to disturb us,” Rhett chuckled lightly.
“But I just ate… I should…” Kristin protested weakly.
“Exercise is good for digestion,” Rhett replied with a wry look, his self–control waning.
With her back against the cold tiled wall, she instinctively sought the warmth of Rhett’s body.
Rhett raised an eyebrow at her forwardness and decided not to hold back.
“Mr. FitzGerald…” she began, her voice tinged with fear as she reverted to formality.
15:14
Rhett tightened his grip on her waist, coaxing a whimper from her lips.
“What is it?” he asked, voice laced with dasire.
A shiver ran down her spine, as if a siren was stealing her soul.
He was so irresistible.
She didn’t want to come off as lustful, but her body was betraying her objections.
“Hmm?” Rhett teased, nipping at her neck when she didn’t respond.
Kristin cried out, “Rhett…”
“Not quite right,” he said, continuing his gentle torment.
She clung to him, her body trembling, “Rhett…”
“Still not right,” he insisted.
With nowhere left to retreat, she hung on him, relying on his strength to keep her from slipping.
Rhett lifted her back against the wall, the cold sensation making her press closer to him. Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.
“Did Summer show you earlier?” he pressed, wanting that particular term of endearment.
Kristin was stubborn, crying but not yielding.
Rhett was at a loss. “Were you a spy in your past life? So hard for you to give in.”
Breathless, Kristin leaned into his embrace, silent and weeping.
Rhett soothed her, chastising himself. “I’m sorry, don’t cry, I won’t tease you anymore…”
“Liar…” Kristin sobbed harder, knowing his words didn’t match his actions.
“Shh,” Rhett hushed her, just as the doorbell rang outside.
He frowned, his expression darkening–who could be so inconsiderate to interrupt at such a time?
If it was York calling, he might as well be signing his own death warrant – unless it was a pressing matter.
Kristin looked anxiously at Rhett, wanting to get down, but Rhett wouldn’t let her go. “Kri
back.”
He was pleading.
Somehow, she was bewitched, no longer resisting. “But someone is there.”
an’t hold
“Doesn’t matter, they can wait… but if we stop now, I might just lose it,” he said, his patience thinning.
Kristin’s face flushed, her voice desperate. “Then, then hurry.”
“Am I too slow for you?” Rhett teased.
The persistent doorbell indicated the visitor’s impatience.
Kristin was terrified–what if it was an emergency?
Rhett, however, was unbothered, though plotting York’s demise.
Time passed, the doorbell a relentless soundtrack.
Rhett didn’t relent, and upstairs, little Summer couldn’t take it anymore, bounding down the stairs.
Summer clattered down, peeking through the digital peephole, puzzled.
The camera showed no one there–was the doorbell malfunctioning?
“Dad? Mom?” Summer called, searching for Rhett and Kristin.
Finding no one, he pondered if they had stepped out.
Approaching the door, he saw on the screen only a round little head–too short for the camera to capture
more.
Thinking it was Milo, Summer unlatched the door.
But instead of Milo, a stranger, a small, unfamiliar figure, stood on the doorstep.
Just as tall as Summer, with eyebrows that echoed his own with a striking resemblance, the little boy stood at the doorstep with his own miniature backpack slung over his shoulders and a rolling suitcase the size of a basketball.
“Who are you?” Summer asked, his curiosity piqued as he eyed the little boy.
The little boy was just as wary, sizing up Summer in return. “Who are you?”
Summer, feeling a bit puzzled, replied, “I’m Summer. What about you?”
Seeing no sign of threat from Summer, the kid’s defensive stance eased a tad. “I’m Liam.”
“Who are you here to see?” Summer peered outside, but there were no adults in sight.
“I’m looking for my mommy,” Liam pat his chubby belly as he declared his mission. He’d run away from home and after overhearing this address at his Uncle Hanson’s place, he’d made his way here.
He was on a quest to find his mommy.
“But, your mommy isn’t here. It’s just my mom at home,” Summer said with a gentle shake of her head. “I think you’ve got the wrong place.”
Liam looked up at the house number and uttered, “I’m not mistaken. This is the place.
Summer shook his head, “Really, your mom isn’t here.”
Summer tried to close the door, but Liam slipped inside, “Mommy? Mommy!” Liam called out, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kristin.
“My parents might be sleeping, so keep it down,” Summer whispered, urging Liam to lower his voice. “It’s just past six, no one sleeps this early. You’re lying,” Liam huffed in disbelief.
Summer was at a loss with Liam. “Your stomach keeps making sounds. I’ll get you something to eat.”
They say you’re indebted to those who feed you, and with that, Liam’s guard finally came down completely.