Chapter 170 Compensation
In the bathroom, Charles stood under the showerhead, icy water cascading down from above, instantly sobering him up considerably. He looked at his flushed ears in the mirror and sighed helplessly.
He'd been way too eager just now, completely forgetting to ask about her condition.
When Charles emerged from the bathroom, toweling his still-damp hair, he found Emily already propped up against the headboard, covered with a light blanket, watching him with bright eyes.
He paused mid-step, then walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, gently touching her lower abdomen, his tone cautious, "Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere? Is there anything I can do?"
Emily shook her head, smiling as she took his hand, "No need, I'll be fine after some rest."
Only then did Charles truly relax, but thinking about how frustrated he'd been earlier and his cold shower, he felt a bit wronged.
He settled onto the bed, moving closer to Emily's side, his chin lightly nuzzling her shoulder, his voice carrying a barely detectable whine, "Emily, do you know how miserable I was just now?"
His hair was still slightly damp, the ends brushing against Emily's neck, making her feel ticklish.
Emily couldn't help but scrunch her neck, but Charles pressed his hand against her shoulder, not letting her escape.
"So what do you want?" Emily looked at the grievance in his eyes, her heart melting completely.
"Compensation. You deliberately provoked me earlier."
Emily was amused by his petulant expression and leaned forward on her own, placing a gentle kiss at the corner of his lips.
The kiss was feather-light, barely there, but it instantly darkened Charles's gaze.
Before Emily could pull away, he cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss.
As their lips and tongues entwined, Charles gently took Emily's hand and placed it on his lower abdomen.
The moment Emily's fingertips touched the warm skin beneath his sleep shirt, she clearly felt his body's reaction. Her cheeks instantly flushed red, and she instinctively tried to pull her hand back, but Charles held it firmly in place.
"Emily..." Charles's breathing grew heavy, his forehead pressed against hers, his voice full of suppressed desire, "Look, I can't control myself the moment you touch me. When your period is over, will you satisfy me?"
Emily's face grew even redder, her eyes darting away, unable to meet his gaze.
Charles watched her shy expression, feeling both itchy and heated inside, but remembering she was still on her period, he forced himself to restrain his impulses. He suddenly released her hand and rolled out of bed, his tone carrying helpless resignation, "I'm going to take another shower."
Without waiting for Emily's response, he rushed back to the bathroom, and the sound of rushing water filled the air again, lasting even longer this time.
Emily leaned against the headboard, listening to the sounds from the bathroom, feeling both amused and sorry for him.
It was all her fault for being too playful earlier, making him suffer like this.
When Charles emerged from the bathroom again, his hair was completely dry, and he'd changed into a fresh set of pajamas. Walking to the bedside, he saw Emily already lying down with her eyes closed, breathing evenly, as if she'd fallen asleep.
Charles stepped lightly, carefully lying down beside her and gently pulling her into his arms, his movements so tender it was as if he feared waking her. He looked down at Emily's sleeping face, his eyes full of tenderness, his fingers lightly brushing her cheek as he whispered, "Being too beautiful isn't exactly a good thing—it's too torturous."
He didn't notice that after he closed his eyes and his breathing gradually steadied, Emily's eyelashes fluttered slightly before she slowly opened her eyes.
She looked at Charles's sleeping face so close to hers, feeling the warmth of his embrace.
She hadn't been asleep at all earlier—she'd been pretending, wanting to see what Charles would do. But seeing his careful, gentle manner, all of Emily's playful thoughts transformed into warm, soft feelings.
She snuggled deeper into Charles's arms, finding a comfortable position, her nose pressed against his chest, where she could clearly hear his strong heartbeat.
So this was what it felt like to be treasured and treated so tenderly—it was wonderful.
Emily closed her eyes, a gentle smile playing at her lips as she slowly fell asleep in Charles's embrace.
Moonlight filtered through the curtain gaps, falling on their intertwined figures, filling the entire bedroom with a sweet, peaceful atmosphere.
The next morning, when Emily woke up, she found herself still in Charles's arms. His arm was wrapped tightly around her, his chin resting on top of her head, breathing evenly—he was apparently still asleep.
She gently lifted her head to look at Charles's sleeping face. There were faint dark circles under his eyes, clearly showing he hadn't slept well last night. Emily felt a wave of guilt and reached out to gently caress his cheek.
Charles seemed to be awakened by her touch, slowly opening his eyes. Seeing she was awake, he immediately smiled, "You're up? Are you hungry? I'll go make you breakfast."
He started to get up, but Emily pulled him back, "Sleep a little longer. You obviously didn't sleep well last night."
"It's fine, I'm not tired."
Charles kissed her forehead gently before getting up and walking quickly toward the kitchen.
Emily leaned against the headboard, listening to the soft sounds coming from the kitchen, unable to suppress a smile.
Her former distrust of marriage was actually beginning to waver at this moment.
Could she really accept Charles?
Could she really manage a marriage well?
Would she really not end up like her mother once had?
Could Charles really be different from other men and remain faithful?
Too many questions swirled in Emily's mind, too many conflicts made her feel dizzy. What kind of choice should she make?
The breakfast oatmeal was cooked to soft, sweet perfection, and Charles had specially made a light salad, worried that Emily might feel sick eating anything greasy during her period.
The two sat at the dining table, sunlight streaming through the dining room's floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm light on the tableware.
Emily sipped her oatmeal in small spoonfuls, still pondering those morning questions about marriage, her gaze occasionally drifting to Charles across from her.
Charles noticed her distraction and gently touched the back of her hand. "What are you thinking about? Don't you like the oatmeal?"
"No, it's delicious." Emily snapped back to attention, shaking her head, then couldn't help asking, "Charles, do you think people can really completely trust another person?"
Charles paused, then understood she might still be struggling with past issues.
He took her hand, his gaze serious, "I don't know about other people, but I'll make you slowly believe in me. I won't be like Simon, and I won't let you suffer the way your mother did."
Charles had already thought it through long ago. Emily lacked security, so he would give her complete security. He would tell her again and again that he loved her, that he would always love her.
Until the day she believed it.
After breakfast, Charles finished cleaning up the dishes and brought out a file folder from his study, sitting down beside Emily, "There's something I think I should tell you. When Nathan was organizing Clara's investigation materials, he discovered some photographs."