Chapter 50 Pregnancy
“All right, let me touch up your makeup.” Claire pulled out a lipstick from her bag and applied it.
“That woman next to him has ulterior motives. She’s already pretending to be drunk.”
She continued, gazing at Liam’s group.
Emma followed the direction of her gaze.
“Your man’s not bad,” Claire remarked.
“In what way?”
“Boundaries. You know that?”
Emma stole a glance at him, meeting his deep blue eyes.
Startled, she quickly looked away.
“Ryan showed me a place. It is selling cheap—a 300-square-meter apartment for just over two million dollars, right downtown.” Claire said, “Is he reliable? Could it be a murder house?”
“I doubt it. He’s always dependable.” Emma glanced at Ryan.
“What does his family do?”
“They run a family farm. I visited once during a class reunion.”
Claire exhaled in relief.
“What’s so fun to talk about? Tell me.” Ryan leaned in.
“How much does your boss actually pay you?” Emma picked up the Pink Squirrel from the table and clinked glasses with him.
“That depends entirely on Emma’s mood. If she’s happy, I live well.”
Laughter rippled through the booth.
Liam’s gaze never left Emma.
Lily followed his gaze, seeing Emma, Claire, and Ryan huddled together.
Could Liam really have feelings for Claire?
He seemed to treat her much better than the others.
It must be her!
Lily sipped her drink, a faint smile touching her lips.
Mistress, right?
I still have a chance.
Emma was drunk.
Ryan escorted her to the elevator.
She staggered and leaned against the wall, pushing him away. “I can make it back on my own.”
Ignoring her, Liam took the coat from Ryan’s hands, draped it over her, and swept her up in his arms.
“How much did she drink?” he asked.
“Probably two Pink Squirrels,” Ryan replied.
“Did she do anything too crazy?”
“Nothing much. She just kept muttering something about twenty centimeters…” Ryan said.
“Enough, stop talking…” Emma murmured.
“…”
“Take care of Claire,” Liam said.
“Got it.”
Liam stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor.
“Are you asleep?” he asked.
“No, just dizzy.” She leaned against his neck, inhaling his scent.
Liam sighed, shaking his head helplessly.
Stepping out of the bar, Arthur was already waiting at the door.
In the car, she exhaled deeply; her breath reeked of alcohol as she stared out the window.
The backseat felt increasingly cramped as the partition slid up, dim light spilling in intermittently.
Liam pulled Emma onto his lap.
The drunkenness made her body limp; she gasped softly.
She could only kneel on the seat, her hands clutching his shoulders.
“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.
“Can’t I hold my own wife?” he grinned wickedly, tightening his arms around her.
He gazed at her rosy lips, tracing them gently with his thumb.
“Don’t…” Her voice trembled.
His hand had already slipped beneath the fabric of her dress.
The cool touch of his fingertips on the small of her back made her shiver.
His large hand trailed down slowly.
“This is in the car…” She grabbed his wrist, her breath uneven.
“We have plenty of cars at home.” He lowered his head, his breath hot against her face. “If we dirty this one, we’ll just pick another.”
Before she could react, he silenced her with a kiss, deep and urgent, tinged with the scent of alcohol.
Up front, Arthur silently pressed the accelerator deeper.
The car pulled into the garage, and the engine cut off.
Arthur quickly got out and left.
The air in the backseat was stifling.
With the last barrier gone, Emma bit her lip hard to stifle a sound as he entered her.
The car began to sway gently and rhythmically.
After a long while, the swaying subsided.
Emma was utterly drained and limp in his embrace.
He pushed aside her damp hair and placed a warm kiss on the nape of her neck.
“Tired?” His voice was hoarse.
She shook her head, burrowing deeper into his embrace.
He chuckled and tightened his arms around her.
The air was thick with the lingering scent of intimacy, leather, and their mingled breaths.
“Home?” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear.
She nodded softly.
After a while, he slowly helped her adjust her clothes, his fingertips occasionally grazing her skin and eliciting tiny shivers.
“Scoundrel…” Emma lay flushed in the backseat, muttering.
He chuckled as he retrieved his coat from the trunk.
“You only dare curse when you’re drunk,” he teased, pinching her cheek.
He caught her foot effortlessly as she kicked out at him.
He wrapped the coat around her and held her close.
She buried her face in his coat, catching several smudged palm prints on the car window.
Blushing, she lowered her head.
When they reached the second floor, his footsteps halted in the living room.
Seeing the luggage scattered on the floor, he was furious.
Emma peeked out to take a look.
Several particularly conspicuous, strapless, black lace dresses lay on the floor.
“Did she hurt you?” Liam asked, looking down at her.
“No, everything was fine when I left.”
Gritting his teeth, he carried her back to the bathroom and helped her bathe.
The moment she lay down on the bed, sleep overwhelmed her.
…
When she woke up, he was no longer by her bedside.
With her heavy head dragging, she secretly took medication.
Don’t get pregnant now.
“Ding.”
The dealership sent a message saying the car was fixed and ready for pickup.
As soon as she arrived at the dealership, she ran into David.
“Emma.”
“David.”
“You don’t look well. Feeling unwell?” he remarked, noticing her flushed face.
Emma touched her cheeks—they felt burning hot.
“Ma’am, would you like to take your temperature? We have a medical kit here.”
The nearby attendant reacted quickly.
Emma didn’t refuse.
While sitting on the nearby sofa, she watched the thermometer beep and show 38.8°C (101.6°F).
“You really do have a fever.” David poured her a cup of warm water.
“It’s fine. I’ll head straight to the hospital for some medicine,” she replied in a heavy voice.
“I’ll drive you to the hospital later.”
“But that’s too much trouble…”
Before she could finish, he walked to the dealership’s front desk, gave a few instructions, and returned.
“I’ve arranged for someone to take your car back home.”