the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart
Chapter 16: The man reached out and pulled her out of the bathtub

Chapter 16: Chapter 16: The man reached out and pulled her out of the bathtub

The bathroom was enormous, designed in a minimalist style with black and white tones. She leaned against the edge of the bathtub, tilting her head to examine Ignatius Leclair’s daily bath products, only to realize she couldn’t recognize a single brand.

Though she’d lived in the Leclair Manor for years and witnessed the life of the wealthy elite, deep down, she was still that impoverished girl from the countryside, the gulf between her and Ignatius Leclair a chasm wider than the heavens and earth.

These past few years, she didn’t hate Ignatius Leclair. Perhaps everything was predetermined by fate. Nowadays, just living like an ordinary person was difficult for her; she had no excess energy to love or hate.

Feeling thoroughly exhausted, the heat made Delphine drowsy. She dozed off until the sound of the bathroom door opening startled her awake, causing her to jolt her eyes open.

Ignatius Leclair stood at the door holding a bathrobe, silent and with a faintly grim expression.

Delphine was so frightened her tongue almost twisted. He hadn’t bathed yet?

"I—I’ll replace the bathwater for you right away." She turned her back to him, quickly stood up, and wrapped herself in her bathrobe. It didn’t even occur to her that she had locked the door.

Ignatius Leclair stepped inside with his long legs, and suddenly the spacious bathroom felt small and cramped.

"No need. Come and scrub my back." As he spoke, the man had already eased into the bathtub, lying by the edge, revealing his sensual and toned back, his voice detached and cold.

Delphine’s hands froze in mid-motion, hesitant to speak. She’d just finished her bath. Didn’t Ignatius Leclair have an obsession with cleanliness?

She raised her eyes to glance at Ignatius Leclair. He had already closed his eyes, his expression indifferent and devoid of desire, showing no interest in her whatsoever.

Right now, she didn’t want to provoke Ignatius Leclair. After all, he held all her weaknesses in his hands.

"I’ll go get something to scrub with." She murmured softly, noting that Ignatius Leclair still didn’t look directly at her, and secretly breathed a sigh of relief. She found a towel, knelt by the bathtub, and began scrubbing his back.

The man’s shoulders were broad and well-built, his back muscular and impeccably defined, tapering down into a narrow waist.

With looks and a physique like his, this man could easily drive countless women mad. Unfortunately, he was too powerful; ultimately, it was always he who toyed with women.

Still, she couldn’t quite envision a man like Ignatius Leclair being pinned under a woman in bed—it was almost a horrifying thought.

"Lower." Ignatius Leclair’s deep voice echoed, blending lazily and hoarsely with the misty steam.

Delphine moved the towel downward. She was half-kneeling by the edge of the bathtub, her arms not long enough to scrub his entire backside, but her posture remained lowered and deferential, showing no trace of impatience.

Ignatius Leclair half-closed his eyes, his gaze briefly sweeping over the pale skin of her chest. She had just emerged from bathing, and the faint fragrance of her skin lingered subtly at his nose.

The half-kneeling posture alone sparked desire; in his sharp, deep-set phoenix eyes, a flicker of something dark surfaced.

"Lower still." His voice grew even deeper, laced with smokiness.

Any lower would be moving past the waist. Delphine froze momentarily, her brows furrowing slightly, but she still silently leaned forward, stretching her arms a bit further, completely unaware that she had gotten too close. The man’s body tensed the instant she did.

After scrubbing his back haphazardly, Delphine sighed in relief, raising her gaze—only to lock eyes with his profoundly dark, deep-set ones. She paused in surprise before weakly saying, "I’m done. I’ll be heading back now."

Ignatius Leclair didn’t respond, only lazily remarking, "Your hair."

Delphine blinked, lowered her head, and finally noticed how close they had gotten. Her dripping wet hair had fallen against his shoulder.

These days, with all the stress of making a living, she hadn’t even noticed how much her hair had grown.

"I’ll cut it later when I get back." She said instinctively, standing upright. Her legs had gone numb, and combined with the slippery floor, her body wobbled. Before she could steady herself, the man reached out, grabbed her, and pulled her directly into the bathtub.

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