novelraw Chapter 337 You Didn’t Call Me
Chapter 337 You Didn’t Call Me
Under the dim nightlight, the man’s face was strikingly handsome yet obscure, carrying an air of unfathomable complexity.
Delphine was awakened by his kiss. The frosty pine scent clinging to him grew even more piercing in the winter night. She reached out and touched his slightly damp, disheveled hair, then retracted her hand sharply from the cold.
Ignatius Leclair’s body stiffened as he let her go. He rose to grab a towel and carelessly dried his short hair before sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking at her, he said coolly, "Don’t you have anything you want to say?"
Delphine realized she was in Ignatius Leclair’s bedroom. She sat up, her fingertips slightly clutching the sheets, and quietly replied, "I knew you wouldn’t be harmed."
The heir to the Howard Family estate in Nanyang, backed by his maternal family and Imperial City’s Shaw Family—there was no need to worry about Ignatius Leclair. What she should have been concerned about was Griffith Squire, yet at this moment, looking at the man’s expression, she dared not voice her question aloud.
The man knelt on the bed, drawing her form into the orbit of his domain. In a low voice, he said, "Over the past few days, skilled or unskilled, nearly everyone has called me."
This investigation was merely procedural, and Ignatius Leclair’s communication lines had always remained open.
He reached out to stroke her soft, tender face, his handsome features leaning down. His voice hoarse and filled with disappointment: "Delphine, you didn’t call me."
Delphine was enveloped by his overpowering masculinity, gripping the blanket beneath her tightly, unsure of what to say. She truly hadn’t thought of calling Ignatius Leclair to inquire about his situation. In her mind, this man was omnipotent and unattainable.
She had always been indifferent toward him.
"Griffith Squire is fine," he said quietly, his face so close to hers that his warm breath brushed against the corner of her lips. His gaze locked deeply onto hers.
Delphine exhaled slowly in relief but before she could speak, her vision darkened as the man leaned down.
His kiss was intense and impatient, leaving no room for resistance. In no time, he was advancing relentlessly, driving her to her final line of defense.
Passion surged, uncontainable. Under the dim nightlight, the howling north wind whistled beyond the windows. Distracted for only a moment, she found herself overwhelmed by his restrained, ragged breathing as he consumed her completely.
A night of utter chaos.
When Delphine awoke in the morning, she noticed bluish bruises on her waist that hurt when touched. Thankfully, the mottled patches had already been treated with ointment—cool and soothing—easing the pain somewhat.
Delphine was awakened by the commotion outside the bedroom.
The old butler was busy leading people as they dismantled the small attic. Seeing her step out, he immediately approached, smiling cheerfully as he said, "Miss Delphine, the eldest young master said the attic is to be renovated into a greenhouse. Your belongings have been moved into the master bedroom."
Ignatius Leclair, who had previously been considerate of the old master’s opinions and used the attic as a cover, now openly had the attic torn down after Reginald Yeager exposed the situation. Boldly and without pretense, he had Delphine housed in his own room.
Delphine’s expression shifted slightly as she noticed their efficiency—half of the attic had already been dismantled, rendering it unfit for habitation. Frustration surged in her chest, leaving her speechless.
With the year-end approaching, she had given her behind-the-scenes team a break and had no work to occupy herself now. Not even an excuse to escape. If she were to spend the entire New Year period sharing a space with Ignatius Leclair, there was no doubt the man would devour her completely, leaving not even her bones behind.
The thought alone made Delphine’s scalp tingle.