The Jilted Heiress' Return to the High Life - Chapter 131
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Chapter 131:
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A fleeting moment of surprise crossed her features; she had half-expected him to take advantage of their situation.
A chuckle escaped her lips.
Nate remained an enigma to her.
He could be domineering and forceful, leaving her seemingly without escape. Yet, at critical moments, he would maintain a careful, almost gentlemanly distance.
His complexity was magnetic, effortlessly capturing the most vulnerable part of her heart, rendering her resistance futile.
Composing herself, Corrine rose from the bed and retrieved the thermometer. She approached Nate quietly, crouching down to check his temperature. Relief washed over her.
Over her as she noted the reading: 97.7 degrees Fahrenheit.
“Finally, the fever’s gone,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
“Feeling reassured now?” Nate’s voice, soft and velvety, broke the silence.
His eyes opened slowly, revealing a gaze both deep and captivating.
Corrine’s eyelashes fluttered as she stood.
“Sometimes the best medicine is the most difficult to swallow,” she replied pragmatically.
“Regardless of how much you might dislike it, taking medication on time is crucial for your health.”
“Did Tanya tell you that?” Nate asked, raising an eyebrow as he sat up.
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She nodded.
“Tanya is genuinely concerned about you.”
His gaze intensified, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“What others tell you is rarely the complete story. If you want to truly understand me, why not ask directly?”
His just-awakened voice was mesmerizing—smooth as velvet, rich with unspoken promise.
Corrine studied him carefully.
His pristine pajamas now bore slight wrinkles, and tousled hair fell across his forehead, lending him a rugged, untamed appeal.
“In that case,” she responded playfully, “should I spend several nights compiling an exhaustive list of questions to interrogate you?”
Her curiosity about Nate ran deep.
Her intuition whispered that his identity—CEO of Brighton Group, owner of Celtis Estate—was merely the visible tip of a far more complex iceberg.
Nate’s response was a low, melodious chuckle. He reached out, tenderly tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, his eyes radiating pure indulgence.
“I’ll share everything you wish to know,” he promised, “without reservation, anytime, anywhere.”
After lunch, Nate and Corrine strolled through the garden in peaceful silence. At the entrance, Nate slowed his pace, pausing just enough to turn slightly toward Corrine and extend his hand with quiet confidence.
.
.
.