Chapter 50 The Husband Privilege
When Roman finally carried Evelyn out of the bathroom, her entire face and the tips of her ears were burning red.
She still couldn’t believe he had actually bathed her like a child, completely ignoring her weak protests. His reasoning had been calm and annoyingly logical: water on her wounds could cause infection.
That didn’t make it any less embarrassing
He had bathed her so well like a kid, scrubbing and touching her sensitive parts with a straight face, like it was a normal thing to do.
Evelyn was too embarrassed to even look at him now.
After settling her gently onto the bed and wrapping her securely in a large towel, Roman turned and headed back into the bathroom for his own shower.
The moment the door closed, Evelyn scrambled.
She quickly dressed herself, fingers fumbling, because she was absolutely certain that if she stayed put, Roman would come out and do it himself, calmly, with the same straight face.
When he emerged a few minutes later, dressed casually, Roman paused.
He gave her a sideways glance. Like he was slightly irritated.
Evelyn blinked.
‘What’s wrong with him?
Why did he look like he’d wanted to play dress-up as well?’
Roman said nothing. He simply grabbed the air dryer, walked over, and stood in front of her.
She looked up at him, and almost forgot how to breathe.
His dark hair was still damp, falling in soft, imperfect waves—not straight, not quite curled also. Water clung to the edges, accentuating his sharp brows and piercing gaze. His nose was straight, his jawline clean and defined, lips relaxed but firm. When he tilted his head slightly, his Adam’s apple shifted, the curve of his neck exposed just enough to make her swallow unconsciously.
Clothed, Roman always looked lean and elegant.
But Evelyn had seen enough to know that without clothes… it was a completely different kind of danger.
There was no denying he had been a pretty boy when he was younger. But time had carved that beauty into something sharper, steelier. And yet, moments like this when he was relaxed, casual, and unguarded, brought back a softer edge to his features, making him unfairly mesmerizing.
There was just something about Roman in casual clothes. Comfortable. Intimate, and dangerous in a quiet way.
Because it didn’t make him less intimidating.
It made him feel… closer.
Evelyn remembered once teasing him about it, telling him that with his permanent poker face, he really shouldn’t wear suits all the time. That casual clothes might make him look less terrifying.
Roman had smiled then. Just slightly. A faint dimple showing, softening his cold elegance.
“You’re the only one who gets to see this side of me,” he’d said calmly. “If others did, they’d be more unsettled than reassured.”
Now Roman Sinclair—a billionaire, favored son of the Sinclair family, a man whose true assets weren’t even public knowledge—stood right in front of her, blow-drying her hair like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Warm air brushed her scalp. His hand guided the strands carefully, with patience.
Evelyn sat there, frozen, unsure what to do with herself.
When he finally turned the dryer off, Roman ran his fingers lightly through her hair, tousling it like he was claiming the last word in the matter.
“What are you thinking about, little chatterbox?” he asked softly. “You’re usually full of questions when I do this. Hmm?”
Evelyn blinked, snapping out of her thoughts.
And realized she’d been staring.
Her face heated up all over again.
Before she could say a single word, Roman leaned down and lifted her, cradling her against his chest.
“Roman!” she whined, squirming. “Put me down! I’m injured, not paralyzed—”
PAT!
A firm, stinging swat landed on her butt.
Evelyn jerked, her eyes flying wide with shock. She stared at him, utterly speechless.
Roman remained impassive. “I’m your husband, say it properly.”
Evelyn’s mouth opened.
No sound came out. She could only stare at him in shock
Roman nodded once, satisfied. “Good. Next time, try ‘hubby.’ Maybe I’ll listen then.” With that, he carried her out of the room and down the grand staircase.
—
In the dining room, Leo was helping Mrs. Chen and Mrs. Hartwell set the table. He looked up, saw his boss carrying his wife like a kid, and almost toppled face-first into a platter of fruit.
He gulped, trying very hard not to show it. After what had happened the last time, he knew better than to react too loudly.
But his wide, astonished eyes betrayed him. He tried to look away, but the scene was too compelling.
When Evelyn saw them, her entire body heated up. She let out a small squeak and buried her hot face in Roman’s neck. Too embarrassed to face anyone.
Roman stiffened.
Her warm breath feathered against his skin, soft and unintentionally provocative. The sensation shot straight through him, hot and immediate. His jaw clenched. His grip on her tightened subconsciously, his fingers flexing against the curve of her hip.
The patience he had managed to build all morning, almost snapping.
With nowhere to vent or relieve himself, he turned and gave a long, hard glare at Leo.
The gaze Leo has been desperately trying to avoid, finally stared at him. Not knowing what to do, he became flustered.
“Erhm…. Boss. Boos lady…” he laughed sheepishly.
“I made breakfast like you re—”
Roman's glare immediately shut him up,
He immediately zipped his mouth shut so fast, remembering Roman’s order never to mention his kitchen punishment in front of his wife.
He laughed sheepishly again. This time in pain.
He had actually come early to do his best with the kitchen task assigned to him by his boss. And he couldn't even brag about it, so his boss could praise him, even though he knew the chances of hearing his boss praises were zero to none.
He stood at the side, whimpering like a kitten, forgetting, he offered little to no help, because Mrs Chen had refused him from entering the kitchen. So he’d hovered uselessly, tasting dishes, stuffing his face with cookies she’d baked as snacks for Evelyn’s vacation.
Mrs Hartwell who had been giving him hostile glare all morning, because he had been nothing but a liability in the kitchen, finally relaxed her face when she saw the young master giving him a hostile glare also.
‘At least I’m not the only one who finds him annoying,’ she thought, deadpan, as she pulled out a chair for Roman and shot Leo another hard look.
Leo looked like he wanted to cry.
‘Why was everyone mad at him?’
‘Sure, he hadn’t helped much… but he set most of the table. That had to count for something, right?’
‘Right?’
“Roman, you can put me down now,” Evelyn mumbled, her lips moving against his neck.
Roman stiffened further, a fresh, acute wave of heat flooding him. Every bit of blood seemed to rush south. He swallowed hard, clinging to the last shreds of his restraint.
Slowly, he sat in his chair at the head of the table, still holding Evelyn in his lap. He made no move to drop her.
Like she was stuck to him.
Evelyn shifted, trying to slide off his lap. She moved carefully, adjusting her legs until her feet touched the ground, but her weight still rested fully on his thighs.
Roman drew in a sharp, cold breath through his teeth.
Evelyn froze, her eyes going wide, realizing something.