Chapter 348 Stop Calling Me Baby
Chapter 348 Stop Calling Me Baby
<b>€</b><b>71 </b>
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In front of Anneliese sat a lineup that looked more like a beauty regimen than a meal. The meals were vani custard with cogen pearls, sauteed asparagus with lily petals, duck strips with sprouted lentils, celery–cashew sd, braised pork ribs with lotus root puree, and a delicate heritage hen consomme.
Everything on her side of the table was meant to nourish, moisturize, and supposedly make her glow. Jonathan’s dishes, byparison, looked far more ordinary.
Penelope and the servants bustling back and forth fussed over Anneliese with warm smiles, ensuring every detail of her meal suited her needs.
However, Anneliese felt as if everyone already knew what she and Jonathan had done the night before. The thing was, she hadn’t even done anything. Penelope hadn’t even bothered to prepare any protection for them, and all Anneliese had managedst night was tiring out her hand.
The memory of Jonathan’s first time still shed through her mind. His breath hade hard against her ear, rough and desperate, whispering, “Baby, you’re incredible.” Just the thought made her fingers twitch. Her spoon slipped and ttered into the porcin cup with a sharp ring.
“Don’t like the taste of the heritage hen consomme?” Penelope immediately leaned over, concern in her eyes.
Anneliese’s ears turned crimson. She shook her head quickly. “No, Grandma. It’s tasty.”
Jonathan’s voice cut in smoothly, “Grandma, let me take care of her. Please, go ahead and eat.”
He reached for the cup in Anneliese’s hands, gave the broth a gentle stir, then lifted a spoonful toward her lips with a quiet gesture for her to drink.
She could feel eyes on her from every direction. Her chest tightened. She dropped her gaze and whispered, “I can do it myself…”
Jonathan leaned in just enough to make her nerves spike. “Is your hand sore? I’ll massage it for you after we eat.”
Anneliese’s mind went nk with a loud rush of heat. She opened her mouth to protest<b>, </b>but the words faltered before they even left her tongue. <i>My </i><i>hand </i><i>really </i>is <i>sore</i><i>. </i><i>But </i><i>whose </i><i>fault </i>is <i>that</i>, <i>huh</i>? <i>He </i><i>just </i><i>doesn’t </i><i>know </i><i>when </i><i>to </i><i>quit</i><i>. </i><i>Last </i><i>night </i><i>wasn’t </i><i>enough </i><i>for </i><i>him</i><i>. </i><i>He </i><i>came </i><i>back </i><i>after </i>his <i>shower </i><i>and</i><i>… </i><i>yeah</i>.
12:45 <b>Mon</b>, Sep <b>29 </b>
Chapter 348 Stop Calling Me Baby
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That time dragged on forever, until she finally broke down in tears and bit at his Adam’s apple to make him stop.
“No!” Anneliese’s voice came out barely louder than a whisper, shaky but stubborn, as she lifted her gaze and shot him a re of irritation.
Her eyes said more than her lips ever could. They were sharp, using, tinged with anger. Every nce carried that mix of grievance and defiance, like her whole heart was speaking through them.
<i>It’s </i>all <i>his </i>fault<i>! </i>
Jonathan’s thin lips curved into a satisfied little smile as he murmured, “My bad, baby.”
When he called her baby, Anneliese’s head spun, every memory ofst night’s heat and tangled whispers rushing back. It caused her to cough.
Lowering her gaze, she saw something that made things worse: his long, clean fingers wrapped around the spoon.
Every movement was unhurried,posed. Like carved jade, his fingers looked almost sculpted, carrying that same cold, aristocratic air that always set him apart.
<i>But </i>it’s <i>the </i><i>same </i><i>hand </i><i>from </i><ist </i><i>night</i><i>, </i><i>insisting </i><i>on </i><i>giving </i><i>back </i><i>as </i><i>good </i><i>as </i><i>it </i><i>got</i><i>… </i>
Her cheeks flushed so fast it felt like heat rushed straight to her skin. Even the sip of heritage hen consomme she had just taken went the wrong way, and she broke into a coughing fit.
“Oh my, Jonathan! Seriously? You’ve got zero sense when ites to taking care of someone. That was anything but gentle.” Penelope frowned hard at him when Anneliese started choking, though the spark of mischief in her eyes gave her away.
Look <i>at </i><i>those </i>two, flirting <i>right </i><i>under </i><i>my </i><i>nose</i><i>. </i><i>My </i><i>sharp </i><i>old </i><i>eyes </i><i>catch </i><i>every </i><i>bit </i><i>of </i><i>it</i>. <i>At </i><i>this </i><i>rate</i><i>, </i><i>I </i><i>wouldn’t </i><i>be </i><i>surprised </i><i>if </i><i>I </i><i>have </i><i>my </i><i>great</i><i>–</i><i>grandson </i><i>and </i><i>little </i><i>great</i><i>–</i><i>granddaughter </i><i>before </i><i>next </i><i>month </i><i>even </i><i>rolls </i><i>around</i><i>! </i>
“Careful.” Jonathan set the soup bowl down and, before Anneliese could even reach for a napkin, brushed her back with one hand and wiped the broth from the corner of her lips with his thumb.
The calloused pad of his thumb was a little rough, and that fleeting scrape made Anneliese’s breath hitch.
She shot him a re, cheeks burning with embarrassment and annoyance. Her voice came out sharp and low. “Stop calling me baby.” <fn8adc> For original chapters go to find?novel</fn8adc>
<b>12:45 </b>Mon, Sep 29
Chapter 348 Stop Calling Me Baby
* Free Cong
Jonathan looked tooposed for someone she knew had been shamelessly yful justst night. Dressed in a charcoal id three–piece suit, he carried himself with the air of a gentleman, refined and self–possessed.
After meeting her angry stare, he only lifted a brow with a calm, almost innocent expression. “You choke on heritage hen consomme and you’re telling me you’re not a baby?”
Anneliese had nothing to say to that.
Breakfast ended in a blur, mostly thanks to her own fluster.
After Penelope realized Anneliese’s mind was upied with her worries about Nishay at the hospital, she didn’t press her to stay.
“Anne, you have toe see me often, alright? I’ll be waiting,” Penelope mentioned warmly as she held Anneliese’s hand, her eyes shining affectionately.
“I will. Take care of yourself too. We’lle by whenever we can.” Anneliese nodded obediently, though her stomach knotted with unease.
Penelope’s endless nudges about babies, her talk of a newlywed’s home, and her unshakable belief in nourishing food had left a mark that Anneliese couldn’t shake off.
She waited until Anneliese entered the car with a smile. Then, she turned, took arge gift box and a shiny gift bag from the servant nearby, and tucked them straight into Anneliese’s arms.