Chapter 64 She Called Him Stella, Making Him Sleepless Again
"Ah, there's a dog! Get it away, quickly!" Emma was so scared that she squeezed her eyes shut, looking like she was about to become a meme.
So she was afraid of dogs, too.
Nicholas chuckled softly, gently patting her back to soothe her. "Don't be scared, it doesn't bite. Someone already took it away. Be good, open your eyes and see."
Emma opened her eyes, saw no trace of the little dog, and somewhat embarrassedly jumped down from Nicholas's embrace.
After comforting her, Nicholas stood up and walked to the buffet table, quickly returning with two plates.
The plates held several pieces of grilled chicken and beef, lamb chops that looked perfectly tender, a colorful vegetable salad, and some delicious-looking mousse cakes and chocolates.
Emma looked at the cake, her eyes flickering with interest, wanting to try it but hesitating.
Nicholas caught her expression and explained with a smile, "Go ahead and eat. The kitchen paid special attention—all the food on the estate contains no dairy ingredients."
Her eyes lit up, and she happily picked up a small fork, taking a bite of the cake.
It melted in her mouth, sweet but not cloying.
"Mmm, delicious!"
She squinted her eyes in satisfaction, eating with obvious enjoyment.
Nicholas watched her cheeks puff out like an adorable little hamster, and found his own appetite improving.
She ate with such relish.
A bit of white mousse accidentally stuck to the corner of her mouth. Nicholas naturally raised his hand, using his fingertip to gently wipe it away.
He looked at her lips, so close and made even more glossy and full from eating the cake, and his Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.
He really wanted to taste that sweetness himself.
Emma froze for a moment, then quickly grabbed her napkin to wipe her mouth.
"Hey! Mr. Harrison and the missus are here!"
A flamboyantly dressed figure drifted over.
Charlie wore a garish floral shirt with an incongruous straw hat on his head, carrying a clear wine decanter and grinning as he approached.
"Ma'am, the things you requested have been delivered to your room."
Emma nodded, "Mm, thank you."
Charlie shook the decanter in his hand like he was showing off a treasure. "Ma'am, this is the estate's vintage wine—excellent taste, very low alcohol content. Want to try some? I specifically asked the doctor, and he said in your current condition, a little bit would actually help with recovery and won't cause any problems!"
Nicholas immediately shot him a warning look. "Charlie! Stop making trouble!"
"Oh come on, boss, it's really fine, just a tiny bit—practically fruit juice," Charlie said with a cheeky grin.
Emma was actually interested and smiled. "Sure, I'll try some."
Charlie quickly poured her a glass.
The wine was a beautiful pale pink color with a light fruity aroma.
She took a sip—the alcohol content was indeed very low, sweet, not bitter at all, and really quite good.
She asked for another glass!
Just then, a little girl with pigtails and a flower crown on her head came bouncing over.
She walked up to Emma, looking up with her small face and holding another pretty flower crown in her hands.
"Hello, Mrs. Harrison, I'm Sunny," the girl said in a clear voice. "Mommy says you're the most beautiful princess on the whole estate, and she sent me to invite you to dance!"
"Princess?" Emma was amused by the title.
Sunny nodded vigorously and said matter-of-factly, "Yes! Because I'm a little princess!"
Emma bent down with a smile, and Sunny seriously placed the flower crown on her head.
She pointed to her ankle and said helplessly, "Thank you, little princess, but my foot is injured, so I can't dance right now."
Sunny's little face immediately fell, filled with disappointment.
"You can dance."
A cool male voice spoke up.
The next second, Emma felt her body lift as Nicholas scooped her up again.
Holding her, he strode toward the crowd dancing around the bonfire.
The music was lively, people holding hands and dancing simple steps around the fire.
Nicholas's tall, imposing figure carrying petite Emma didn't look out of place at all as they joined in.
Following the music's rhythm, he held her as they turned in circles, his steps steady, his warm chest against her back, his strong arms encircling her.
The evening breeze blew, the bonfire crackled, and laughter filled the air around them.
Emma felt a bit shy at first, but was quickly infected by the lively atmosphere.
She couldn't help but laugh, her eyes crinkling with joy, completely happy.
Charlie watched from a distance as Nicholas held Emma, their dance steps simple but fluid and natural, his gaze so tender.
Nicholas's romance skills were practically instinctive—quite talented indeed.
The party continued until around ten-thirty before gradually winding down.
Emma had drunk quite a bit of wine, her cheeks flushed with a lovely pink glow.
In the festive atmosphere, her eyes sparkled brightly with a slight haze.
Her half-drunk appearance was like a lily blooming after rain—dewy, fragrant, and captivating.
Nicholas bent down again, sliding his arms under her knees and back, lifting her securely.
She made a soft sound, but her hands instinctively hooked around his neck.
The night breeze carried a slight chill after the bonfire party.
She shivered and, like a cat seeking warmth, nuzzled closer into his solid chest, looking for a more comfortable position.
Nicholas continued walking steadily, carrying her across the lawn toward the brightly lit main house.
The person in his arms suddenly began murmuring, her voice soft and slurred from the alcohol.
Nicholas paused in his steps, looking down at her.
Her eyes were closed, long lashes trembling lightly.
"You were so late."
"I waited for you... waited... two years."
Fragmented words, like pieces fished from the depths of distant memory.
"But... you forgot about Stella."
"How could you... forget Stella?"
By the end, her voice was thick with tears, and she began crying softly, warm tears sliding down her cheeks and dampening his shirt.
"You forgot our promise."
Nicholas's arms tightened around her, emotions churning in his deep eyes.
Stella?
Was that her former name? It certainly matched the restaurant's name!
And what was this promise?
An unfamiliar restlessness and curiosity surged in his chest.
The person in his arms began moving restlessly again.
"Nicholas... I... want to tell you a secret."
His eyes lit up as he looked down tentatively. "What secret?"
Suddenly, without warning, she lifted her small face and opened her mouth, her warm, soft lips pressing against his chin, her teeth gently nipping.
It didn't hurt, just carried moisture and the scent of wine.
Nicholas's entire body tensed, his defined jawline becoming even more rigid.
His Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily.
Emma was drunk.
He was certain of it.
When sober, she would never dare be so bold.
Finally reaching the master bedroom, he gently placed her on the soft bed, and she seemed to quiet down somewhat.
But the peace didn't last long.
Even in sleep, Emma remained restless.
Her brow furrowed lightly, her hands moving unconsciously, kicking off the light blanket covering her.
What made his heart race even more was that she began tugging at her clothes, pulling her jacket collar askew.
Nicholas immediately stepped forward, restraining her restless hands.
He noticed her injured arm still wrapped in gauze and moved even more gently.
He was afraid her wild movements might injure her again.
Patiently, he carefully helped her remove the troublesome jacket, leaving only her undergarments.
After finishing, he didn't dare leave immediately.
He lay down beside Emma and reached out to gently hold her uninjured hand. Her hand was small, soft, and warm.
As soon as he lay down, the person beside him seemed to find her anchor.
Emma turned over, draping one hand across his waist and carelessly throwing one leg over him, practically wrapping her entire body around his.
Soft warmth filled his arms, carrying the sweet essence of alcohol and her unique fragrance.
Nicholas's body went rigid; he didn't dare move. He could clearly feel the temperature of her skin and her soft curves.
He kept his eyes open, staring at the ceiling, her drunken words echoing repeatedly in his mind.
Stella... the promise.
For some reason, he also wanted to recover that blank period of memory. He felt it was important.
This woman always managed to stir his heartstrings!
How frustrating!
The night deepened.
The person in his arms gradually breathed more evenly, seeming to fall into deep sleep.
But her small movements didn't stop, unconsciously nuzzling against him as she sought the most comfortable position.
Each movement was like a feather's caress, igniting the suppressed fire within him.
Nicholas's physical response grew stronger and stronger.
He closed his eyes, but ultimately couldn't endure it.
In the middle of the night, he quietly got up from the bed and walked into the bathroom, turning on the cold water.
Then he left her bed—he couldn't sleep!