novelraw Chapter 122 - 120: Babe Smells So Good
Chapter 122 - 120: Babe Smells So Good
The girl had a gentle face, but her words were utterly ruthless.
She was forcing him to make a choice.
There were only two paths laid out before him.
Either kill the old man and eliminate the source of their suffering.
Or kill her—right here, right now, in Portia.
Even if he didn’t act, the old man would never spare her. It would be better to die by his hand.
But...
They both knew, deep down, that he would never lay a hand on her.
The most he’d ever done, even in the heat of passion, was give her a slap on the rear.
She was so delicate, crying at the slightest touch. How could he ever bear to strike her forcefully?
How could he bring himself to deliver a killing blow?
Silas Grant closed his hand, his palm covering hers over the cold Butterfly Knife. As he lifted his chin, his gold-rimmed glasses caught the light, reflecting a piercing, cold glint.
Mia Grant met his gaze, unflinching. The smile in her eyes never faded as she waited quietly for him to speak.
’Well, how could the two paths she offered *not* be considered a choice?’
In an instant, the room fell silent. The air grew heavy, and even the endless stream of traffic outside the window seemed to freeze, as if someone had pressed pause.
"Who gave you the knife?"
He asked a question that had nothing to do with the choice at hand.
Mia Grant didn’t speak.
So he guessed himself. "Yates Donovan?"
He stared into her eyes, where a faint smile flickered, though it never truly reached them.
"He gave you this knife for your own protection. You shouldn’t be handing it over."
He gently pushed her hand back.
But Mia Grant was insistent. "No."
She shook her head, still holding her hand out before him.
"I accepted it for more than just my own protection. It can be used to protect you, too."
The man’s eyes flickered with shock. Then, his expression smoothed into a calm smile. "Aren’t you afraid?"
Mia Grant frowned. "I am."
"But I’m more afraid of you leaving me."
"I..."
"On my way here, I had a very chaotic, complicated dream. I dreamed about you. You..."
Silas Grant took the knife from her hand. "That’s enough."
He cut her off abruptly, his tone unreadable. Mia Grant froze, momentarily unable to decipher what he meant by ’that’s enough...’
She didn’t dare to make another sound, her eyes anxiously following his every move.
The man tucked the knife into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
The beautiful Butterfly Knife didn’t match his suit, nor did it fit his persona.
But he still took it.
’Does this mean... he agrees?’
His gaze was too intense, impossible to ignore. Silas Grant met her eyes and saw them dart away, a trace of fear in them. As if just then realizing, he put his gentle, gentlemanly mask back on and beckoned to her.
"Come to me."
Mia Grant hesitated for a second, then got up and walked around the long table.
He pulled her into his embrace, and she stumbled, landing in his lap.
He took off his glasses with one hand and impatiently kissed her lips, his fingertips lingering on her collarbone, kneading gently.
His touch sent shivers through her.
Just as she was running out of air, he gave the corner of her mouth a final, light peck before letting her go.
He called her name, coaxing her to open her eyes and look at him.
Hearing his voice, she slowly raised her trembling lashes. Her gaze met his smiling eyes, and she immediately looked down again.
His chest vibrated with laughter. They were embracing face-to-face, and she felt as if she could feel his heartbeat thrumming along with his movements.
It was much faster than hers.
Perhaps it was just her imagination.
While she was still in a daze, he leaned in to kiss her again. He started with her cheek, a kiss devoid of lust, filled only with affection.
His movements were tender, until his own lips met hers.
Mia Grant gripped his jacket tightly, wrinkling his expensive, handmade suit.
In a pause between kisses, his voice, laced with an inescapable sigh, escaped his lips—
"It’s enough."
"Just dreaming of it is enough."
—
In the end, the two of them never left the office. Silas Grant had someone order them a meal.
He didn’t have much of an appetite and simply watched her eat the entire time.
She ate like a little kitten, taking small bites and occasionally stealing a glance at him, as if gauging her owner’s reaction.
Every time she looked over, the dark eyes behind his lenses would be narrowed slightly, watching her with a doting smile.
Eventually, she grew too shy to eat on her own, so he pulled her onto his lap and began feeding her, one bite at a time.
Every time she turned to look at him between bites, she was rewarded with a kiss.
"Good girl."
It was only after being with Silas Grant that she learned that even eating properly could earn her praise.
After they finished eating, Mia Grant noticed a spot of crimson on the gauze.
"It’s nothing," he said, unconcerned.
But Mia Grant frowned and told Eric to call a doctor.
Ten minutes later, the doctor came in to change his dressing.
Mia Grant tried to get up, but he held her in place.
"Stay right here."
"I can’t..." She was sitting on his lap, and Eric and the doctor were still in the room. Although they had politely averted their gazes, she still felt embarrassed.
Silas Grant didn’t force the issue, releasing his grip on her waist.
Mia Grant let out a sigh of relief, but before she could hop off his lap—
A low groan reached her ears. It was a somewhat sensual sound, and one she’d heard not long ago, so it wasn’t unfamiliar.
She turned her head to see the doctor’s fingers trembling, his expression caught between a rock and a hard place.
Her eyes welled up the moment she saw the bloody wound.
She stopped trying to get up and instead settled sideways in his lap, tilting her head back to meet his gaze.
He looked at her, puzzled. She opened her arms, a subtle invitation for him to lean on her and rest.
He rested his chin on her shoulder, his gaze falling upon her snow-white neck. The smell of blood in his nose was replaced by the faint, fresh scent of her body wash.
Mia Grant gestured with her eyes for the doctor to continue.
’If he can’t see, maybe the pain will lessen a bit.’
The man’s hand rested on the table, at the doctor’s mercy. Suddenly, she heard him laugh. It was a quiet sound, but with him right beside her ear, it was impossible to miss.
"What’s so funny?" she asked, unable to turn her head to see his face.
"You smell so good, babe."
He murmured, nuzzling against her neck.
Mia Grant blushed. "That’s the scent of your body wash," she explained.
"Mm, mine," he rumbled, his vibrating chest making her body tremble with it.
"..." Mia Grant didn’t get it at first. ’What’s so funny about that?’
It took her a moment to realize what he meant. When she did, her gaze darted away in a panic, and even the tips of her ears flushed pink.
Nearby, Eric kept his head bowed, studiously minding his own business. He wouldn’t dare to look.
But from the soft rustling sounds, he could guess just how intimate the two were being.
’He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he had definitely noticed earlier that Mr. Grant had cried out in pain when the doctor was merely unwrapping the gauze...’
’What could that be, if not deliberate?’
’Forget changing a dressing—when his palm was pierced clean through, their Mr. Grant hadn’t even blinked.’
’Sigh. Men in love.’
Eric sighed to himself.
It was just a change of dressing, but to Mia Grant, it felt like a century had passed.
The man on her shoulder wasn’t doing anything overt, but his hot breath lingering on her neck left her completely flustered.
Thankfully, someone appeared just in time to break the ever-thickening intimacy in the room.
"Am I interrupting something?" The office door was pushed open from the outside.