Overbearing CEO's Contract Love
Chapter 179: Bathing You or Watching You Bathe: Choose One

Chapter 179: Bathing You or Watching You Bathe: Choose One

"Yeah, Amelia Davidson, the impressive woman from our marketing department. Didn’t you meet her last time? You should’ve seen the way Logan Harrington looked at Amelia today. But I think for Logan, it’s just a fleeting fascination." Emma Hart turned around, mimicking a casual conversation with a friend.

She gestured naturally, her face animated as she imitated Logan’s reaction upon seeing Amelia, a casual ease in her demeanor that took even herself by surprise. When had she and Damien Sterling ever communicated so smoothly?

At this moment, Damien Sterling’s gaze was fixed on Emma, who was animated and lively, as if she had let down all her guards around him. He found this openness refreshing.

However, Damien’s lack of response soon made Emma pause, her gesturing hands stopping mid-air before dropping. "Do you find this boring?" she asked.

Damien sighed, admitting internally that it was somewhat mundane. Logan’s reputation as a playboy was well-known, with countless women in his past. It wasn’t the first time Damien had seen Logan take a liking to someone, and he didn’t find it particularly surprising.

However, he didn’t want to dampen Emma’s spirits, especially after her enthusiastic storytelling. "No, it’s not boring," he lied.

Emma could tell he was disinterested, despite his words. Deciding not to pursue the conversation further, she thought about how impossible it seemed to have a normal conversation with him. Their interactions were typically limited to commands and threats, with little else in between.

Emma, shifting the topic, brought up an incident from earlier. "Actually... you don’t need to go out of your way to solve my work problems for me." The person who had intervened at work today was undoubtedly sent by Damien, a gesture that, while well-intentioned, only served to privilege her in a way she despised. It made her feel exposed to gossip and misunderstanding.

"It wasn’t me who sent them," Damien stated calmly.

Not him? Emma looked at Damien skeptically. Who else could it be? She decided not to argue. If Damien didn’t want to admit it, then so be it. After all, denying things he didn’t want to acknowledge seemed to be his standard approach.

In the room, mist filled the bathroom as Damien Sterling stood at the doorway. Despite Emma Hart’s discomfort with his gaze, she was almost getting used to it.

As Emma moved to close the door tentatively, Damien, one hand holding his tablet and the other pressing against the door, didn’t even look up as he spoke, "Don’t bother with such meaningless actions."

Feeling helpless, Emma turned around. "Mr. President, do you think it’s appropriate for you to watch me, a grown woman, bathe every day? What if word gets out?"

"Choose one: bathing you or watching you bathe."

And so it begins again, Emma thought, rolling her eyes at Damien. What exactly did his years of studying abroad teach him? The openness of foreigners? Was there a course overseas on how to be a rogue?

Emma chose to compromise, her movements slightly hastened, only to be met with a stern warning from outside, "Slow down!"

Fine, she’d slow down. It was just that one time she nearly slipped, a mere oversight on her part, and now Damien makes it his concern every time she bathes?

Is everything she does now subject to his scrutiny?

Only when Emma cautiously took a seat on the edge of the bed, looking up and spreading her hands in a gesture of completion, did she ask, "Mr. President, is this okay?"

Damien glanced at Emma. There was a saying that pregnant women glow, and indeed, her skin seemed even fairer than before, perhaps the warmth of the bathroom had flushed her cheeks with a hint of red, making her look like a blooming peach blossom. Her always endearing smile, although somewhat forced, still managed to captivate Damien’s attention.

After speaking, Emma noticed Damien’s lack of response or movement to leave, heightening her sense of dread. Recalling his past fierceness, she feared the day he might lose control and reveal his beastly side again.

"Do you... not have work to do?" she asked, timidly pulling her feet closer.

Seeing the danger in his eyes fade, Damien finally turned away, allowing Emma’s anxious heart to settle.

The man coldly scolded, "Don’t dress so sexy!"

Emma Hart, taken aback, glanced down at her floral pajamas, considering them at best cute. Far from provocative, these were old pajamas she brought from home for their comfort. Compared to the ultra-sexy attire Damian Sterling once picked for her, these were nothing.

Could it be that the man had redefined what sexy meant?

Emma faced him with a puzzled look, wondering if this was deemed provocative, then how should she dress?

...

Damian Sterling turned back around only to find Emma wrapped in a blanket from head to toe like a burrito on the bed.

With an innocent yet helpless gaze, she looked at Damian and plaintively asked, "Is this better?"

Emma couldn’t think of anything in the room more modest than her pajamas unless it was the white blanket she was now enveloped in. If Damian’s definition of provocative was to be believed, she was sure he wouldn’t find the blanket overly sexy!

Damian, bewildered, burst into laughter at the sight of her, "What are you doing?"

"I..."

Damian, are you out of your mind? Who just called her sexy, leading her to this? He was becoming more and more difficult to deal with!

With a cold yet amused look in his eyes, Damian approached Emma. The sinister smile curling at his lips and his overall aura terrified her. Could her wrapped-up form possibly stir his desires?

What? He’s coming closer!

No way.

Emma backed away, but Damian advanced, step by step. He leaned down to grab Emma’s leg, slowly pulling her towards him against the friction of the bedsheet.

"Ah! What are you doing?"

Just as Emma was about to kick out, she saw Damian sitting quietly by the bed, clipping the nails on her foot.

From her angle, all she could see were his tousled hair, the refined and stern lines of his profile, and his focused expression...