Chapter 194: Why Are My Wife’s Ears Red?
Chapter 194: Chapter 194: Why Are My Wife’s Ears Red?
’Would an introverted classmate who never talked much at school really enjoy being confessed to in front of a huge crowd?’
"So, was my pursuit successful?" Adrian Grant asked, perfectly composed.
"Obviously," Caroline Whitman said, throwing her hands up. "If it wasn’t, would we be living under the same roof right now? Would both our names be on our marriage certificate?"
"Hm." Adrian Grant nodded, looking utterly serious as he said, "Well, since I confessed to you in front of a huge crowd back then, why don’t we recreate it?"
Caroline Whitman’s smile froze for an instant.
She tried to find any hint that he was doing it on purpose, but it was obvious this guy had a better poker face than she did.
His completely placid face revealed nothing.
’Wait. Something’s not right.’
Staring at his handsome face, Caroline Whitman suddenly grew wary.
’Has he gotten his memory back?’
’Or did he see through her story and is trying to call her bluff?’
She preferred to be low-key and disliked big, flashy displays. Adrian Grant knew that—at least, the pre-amnesia Adrian did.
’Didn’t the doctor say his memory could come back in a few days, or a few months at the latest?’
’But this is only the second day. Isn’t that too fast?’
’If it’s a coincidence, it’s a hell of one.’
’If it’s not a coincidence, then it means that even with amnesia, his wicked, villainous nature hasn’t changed one bit.’
’On the surface, he’s playing along, but he’s probably digging a trap for her behind her back, just waiting for her to fall in.’
Once Caroline Whitman pieced this together, she sneered inwardly.
’A villain is a villain. Even with amnesia and a new, innocent facade, his true nature won’t change.’
"What’s wrong?"
"That’s probably not a good idea," she said with a hollow laugh, trying to keep her tone light. "Your head is still injured. It wouldn’t look good if we went out and people took pictures."
"I don’t mind." Adrian Grant was unmoved by her concern, even offering a logical rebuttal. "I don’t want our relationship to cool down because of my amnesia. I also don’t want you to feel sad and hurt because I might overlook certain details. If I can get my memory back sooner, none of those problems will happen."
Caroline Whitman froze.
To be honest...
...his words had genuinely moved her. But being moved was one thing; she still remained wary, reminding herself that this was the "post-amnesia Adrian" talking.
Based on her limited understanding of Adrian Grant, she was sure he was doing this deliberately.
She decided to go on the offensive. Standing up, she walked over and sat right on his lap.
Adrian Grant’s body visibly stiffened for a moment, his back tensing slightly. But he didn’t push her away, nor did he wrap his arms around her.
Caroline Whitman rested her hands on his shoulders and leaned in close. "You really want to recreate it?"
"Yes."
At his response, she leaned in even closer. "When you were pursuing me, it wasn’t as simple as just a public confession."
Adrian Grant glanced down at her hands on his shoulders, then lifted his gaze to her radiant face. Her smiling eyes held a barely perceptible glint of cunning.
He dropped his gaze again, taking in the woman sitting on his lap.
After a moment’s thought, he wrapped an arm around her waist, his other large hand coming to rest naturally on the side of her thigh. The movements were so practiced, as if he had done it countless times.
So practiced, in fact, that Adrian Grant himself was momentarily surprised.
This time, it was Caroline Whitman’s turn to stiffen.
Adrian’s slow, deliberate voice sounded next to her ear. "Then tell me, what else was there?"
His tone now held a trace of something familiar to Caroline.
Caroline glanced up at his effortless confidence, and alarm bells screamed in her mind. She was all too familiar with Adrian when he was like this.
She was now completely certain that Adrian was doing this deliberately. The amnesia hadn’t made him a fool; on the contrary, it seemed to have stripped away his facade. The whole innocent, abstinent act was a sham.
At his core, he was still the same smoldering man.
Adrian ducked his head slightly, his nose less than two inches from hers. "Why so quiet? Weren’t you going to help me remember?"
"..."
’Is this what it feels like to play with fire?’
Caroline Whitman realized she had backed herself into a very awkward corner.
Now she could neither advance nor retreat.
She stared at his face, now just inches away. The tips of her ears began to burn, but she struggled to keep her expression neutral.
"We can remember, just... don’t be so close."
"Close?" Adrian’s tone was light, but his grip didn’t loosen. He dipped his head lower, his nose brushing against her cheek before stopping at the corner of her mouth. He didn’t kiss her; he just hovered there.
Their breaths mingled.
Caroline felt her heart skip a beat.
Then, she heard Adrian speak slowly:
"Aren’t we husband and wife? You call this close?"
"..."
Caroline’s ears grew even hotter. At that moment, she was suddenly on his wavelength.
’She had a feeling he was about to bring up the concept of "negative distance."’
’Wait, how did the conversation take such a weird turn?’
The next moment, his warm breath was at her ear, his eyes taking in its crimson hue.
He chuckled, his hand coming up to slowly rub her earlobe. "Why are your ears red, darling? They shouldn’t be, should they?"
"..."
’Damn you, Adrian Grant!’
’He’s getting back at me for teasing him last night, isn’t he? He has to be.’
At his words, a strange sense of competitiveness flared up in Caroline, overwhelming the embarrassment of being called out.
Without another word, she snatched his glasses off. Adrian squinted, and without the lenses to soften his gaze, his eyes held a new, aggressive glint.
Caroline grabbed his collar and pressed her lips to his.
This was no fleeting touch.
A visible change finally broke through Adrian Grant’s composure.
He froze for only half a second before his hand on her waist tightened. His other hand slid from her ear to cup the back of her head, pulling her deeper into his embrace.
She may have started the kiss, but within seconds, he had taken control.
His response was practiced—the pressure, the timing, the breaks for air—he didn’t have to think about any of it. Pure instinct took over.
Caroline found herself arching back under the force of his kiss, her fingers clutching his collar for dear life. All mischievous thoughts had vanished from her mind.
An unknown amount of time passed.
When Caroline was finally able to break free and catch her breath, she pounded his chest with a small, annoyed fist. "Hmph! Your brain might have forgotten, but your body sure has good muscle memory. It’s being very honest, isn’t it!"
With a soft huff, she scrambled off his lap and scurried toward the study door.
A moment later, she came back. Adrian was leaning lazily against the chair, his eyes closed.
As if hearing the door, Adrian opened his eyes. Sure enough, a head was peeking around the doorframe.
"Mom said we’re going to the main family house for dinner tonight."
She dropped the line and bolted again without waiting for a reply.
Adrian stared at the closed door, still leaning back in his chair without moving.
He looked down at his own hands. ’Caroline was right. My mind has no memory of it, but my body is very honest.’
’When she got close, I instinctively wanted to respond.’
’Especially when she pounded on my chest. That felt incredibly familiar.’
’At the very least, one thing is certain: even with amnesia, I don’t dislike her touch.’
’So, I did pursue her, and I did propose. It’s just that her stories about a crazy courtship and a public confession are, in all likelihood, highly embellished.’