CHAPTER 37: CHAPTER 37: BE GOOD!

Holly was momentarily stunned by his question, then nodded absently.

Blake Sinclair gave a slight smile, encircling her waist with one arm, while the fingertips of the other hand gently explored her lips, imbued with an ambiguous allure, "What do you want?"

Though bewildered, Holly blushed even more upon hearing this.

She couldn’t find the words, feeling as though her entire being was uncomfortably restless.

"I don’t know..." she mumbled, nuzzling against his neck.

Through the thin fabric, Blake Sinclair could feel their intense heartbeats.

He lowered his head, as if with a sigh of resignation, "Then what should we do?"

The warm breath brushed against her ear, making Holly shiver involuntarily.

She hesitated for a moment, then opened her dazed eyes, blindly reaching over him until she precisely caught his hand, bringing it to her lips for a kiss.

"You."

"Hmm?"

"I want you."

"Are you sure?"

"Hmm."

Blake Sinclair didn’t withdraw his fingers, but continued to gently caress her lips with a probing touch, "Be good, open your mouth."

The three words carried an undeniable gentleness.

The next second, his lips descended upon hers with a hint of aggression, his scent of cedar quickly subduing the heat emanating from Holly.

Holly’s body softened, instinctively climbing onto his shoulder.

Her body gradually relaxed, and just as she was about to run out of breath, Blake Sinclair slightly pulled back.

Their foreheads touched, his words laced with a hint of laughter, "Still hot?"

Holly’s head felt dizzy.

She shook her head.

This time, she moved forward, imitating how he had just kissed the corner of his lips.

Blake Sinclair let her be playful, only slightly parting his lips when her tongue touched him.

"Holly," he lightly flicked her flushed cheek, "who am I?"

Halfway through her kiss, Holly blearily blinked.

He softly chuckled, indulgently sighed, "Call me Blake."

"Blake." She sweetly obliged, with a touch of clinginess.

Not knowing what she was thinking, she tentatively tilted her head up and called, "Brother?"

Blake Sinclair’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice deep yet gentle, "Say it again, together."

Holly was startled for a moment, her voice wrapped in sweetness, "Brother Blake."

Her heart was both soft and sweet.

Blake Sinclair laughed lightly, bending over to drop a kiss on her forehead, his voice as light as a sigh, "Silly girl, it’s Yarrow."

The moonlight was like gauze.

In the exchange, it was unclear who was more deeply entangled.

.....

The early morning light gently filtered through the curtains onto the bed as Holly slowly opened her eyes.

An unfamiliar ceiling, the sheets beneath her were not the familiar fabric, but an unfamiliar bedding with a faint cedar scent.

As her consciousness gradually returned, a strange soreness seeped through her body.

Scenes from yesterday slowly replayed in her mind.

Following Zion Pence’s address, she arrived at The Elysian, entered the fourth-floor suite, was coerced by Frederick Fletcher, and then...

Her whole body was burning and her mind blurred, but she could feel someone holding her, softly soothing her by her ear, it was...

Blake Sinclair!

And...

She seemed to have kissed him of her own accord.

Even...

Blake Sinclair’s hand...

Holly suddenly clenched the quilt, her face rapidly turning crimson, her ears burning unbearably.

She almost sprang up, only to get dizzy from the sudden movement.

The room was quiet, with no sign of Blake Sinclair.

Only the shirt on the distant chair reminded her that what happened last night was not a dream.

A thought quickly arose.

Run!

In a flurry, she threw off the quilt and got out of bed. As soon as she put on her slippers, she heard the door "click" open.

The door was pushed open.

Holly froze stiff.

At the doorway, Blake Sinclair stood there with a fancy dining cart.

Their eyes met, the air seemed to solidify.

His body was loosely wrapped in a black and gold robe, its open collar revealing distinctly defined muscle lines, with vivid red marks starkly evident!

Holly’s eyes suddenly constricted.

Red marks!

She silently glanced down at her newly done manicure.

Those confusing and heated moments from last night flooded back without warning, she used these hands... left marks on him...

She wished she could cut these hands off on the spot!

And then find a hole to crawl into!

"Awake?"

Blake Sinclair walked over with glass of warm water, his distinctly jointed fingers shimmering as if gilded in the morning light.

These hands... last night... helped her...

With a "boom", Holly’s entire being burned up, like a duck roasted in an oven, even the back of her neck turning red.

"You... I..."

"Um... I need to use the bathroom."

Holly almost stumbled into the bathroom, nearly tripping over the carpet.

Staring at the closed door, Blake Sinclair’s lips curled into an imperceptible smile, "The clothes are in the closet."

"...Okay, thank you..." came a muffled response from inside.

Once he had his answer, he pushed the dining cart outside the door, closing the room door.

Waiting quietly for the little rabbit to come out of its hole.

Outside the door, Blake Sinclair stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, the warm water on the coffee table having already cooled.

When Holly emerged from the bedroom, she had changed into the beige knit dress from the closet, rendering her gentle and serene.

"President Sinclair..." she instinctively twisted her fingers, calling his name.

He had changed out of the robe from earlier, now wearing a coffee-colored shirt with matching vest, the tie meticulously fastened around his neck, reverting to that cold and noble demeanor, as if the person she had just seen wasn’t him.

Blake Sinclair turned his head, his gaze falling on her, a trace of tenderness flickering in his eyes, "Yes?"

Though she had prepared her words while inside, nothing came out in front of him.

"Um..."

"Why are you standing there?" he stepped forward, his tone devoid of much emotion, "Come over and have breakfast first."

The two sat opposite each other.

Blake Sinclair poured another cup of warm water, pushing it in front of her, "Have some water first."

The water in the glass refracted into a lovely light under the sun.

Holly clenched the glass, her voice slightly hoarse, "Last night... why did you come?"

Blake Sinclair paused, a faint note of coldness in his voice as he briefly recounted stumbling upon the incident with Holden Lancaster last night.

Holly listened quietly, pausing when he mentioned the D-brand dress.

So, Blake Sinclair came just because of a dress.

This touched her somewhat, and she softly said, "Thank you."

Blake Sinclair said nothing, simply watching her quietly, "Do you need me to investigate what happened last night?"

Holly’s fingers trembled slightly.

From the moment Frederick Fletcher dragged her away yesterday, she knew Zion Pence and Mia Chapelle were behind it, piecing together the fragments of past incidents into a complete chain.

Frederick Fletcher’s desire for her, Mia Chapelle’s pregnancy and eagerness to advance, plus Zion Pence...

Her heart was pricked once more, the pain making it hard to breathe, the sense of injustice and hatred uncontainable.

Seven years of affection, four years of betrayal, yet they refused to leave her even a trace of dignity, seeking to drain the last ounce of value from her, even to the point of orchestrating her disgrace and ruination!

All calculated!

She closed her eyes, and as she opened them again, only cold stillness remained.

Holly looked up at Blake Sinclair across from her and shook her head, "No need."

She would not let this matter rest!

She would make them pay in her own way!

Blake Sinclair nodded slightly.

The room fell silent for a while.

Only the sound of the dining knife sliding was left.

Holly was still pondering about Zion Pence’s matters until one sentence from Blake Sinclair pulled her back.

"About last night..."