?Chapter 398:


    The moment Jeffry turned, she had already straightened on the sofa, feigning nonchnce.


    Water dripped from his fingers as he plucked a tissue from the table, dabbing the droplets away with deliberate care.


    Just as he made to leave for the study, a tentative hand caught the fabric of his pant leg.


    Jeffry halted and nced down to find Lydia’s wide, searching eyes. She swallowed, hesitant yet resolute. “Could you help me wash my hair? It’s been days.”


    A pause, then a nod. “Alright.”


    Without another word, he lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the bathroom.


    Reclining in the bathtub, Lydia tilted her head back, her posture trusting.


    Jeffry adjusted the water, his voice calm but firm. “Too hot?”


    Lydia shook her head, but before she could speak, a steady hand pressed against her, stilling any movement. “Don’t move.” A faint flush crept up her cheeks. “It’s fine.”


    With practiced ease, Jeffry’s fingers slid through her hair, massaging her scalp in soothing, rhythmic motions.


    Lydia tilted her head back, her gaze tracing the sharp angles of his jawline, the steady rise and fall of his throat.


    The more she stared, the more her face burned like embers catching fire.


    The steady stream of water muffled the wild hammering of her heart. Then, breaking through the sound, a low, husky voiceced with curiosity cut through the moment. “What exactly are you looking at?”


    “Nothing,” she blurted out, her cheeks heating like the midday sun. “Absolutely nothing.”


    In her nervousness, her body shifted slightly, but Jeffry caught the movement instantly and stilled her with a firm hand. “Don’t move.” Yet, the water continued to snake down her neck, seeping into her shirt.


    Lydia wore only a white T-shirt, and as the damp fabric clung to her skin, it traced the curves of her body with unintentional precision. She didn’t seem to notice, biting her lip, her cheeks painted with a nervous flush.


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    Jeffry’s breathing grew heavier. His gaze darkened, and the veins on the back of his hand stood out like silent confessions of restraint.


    Lydia blinked, caught in the moment, a little unsure. “I wasn’t staring at you just now—I was just checking if you washed it properly.”


    If her face weren’t the color of a setting sun, Jeffry might have believed her. That unnecessary exnation was as good as an admission. He said nothing.


    Lydia, suddenly restless, lifted her gaze and met his deep, unreadable eyes.


    The air between them thickened.


    Heat crept up Lydia’s skin, spreading from her cheeks until every inch of her felt warm, as if she had been set ame from the inside out.


    For a second, she forgot how to breathe, her eyshes trembling. They were both adults. She recognized the desire in his eyes as clearly as she recognized the pull in her own heart.


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