Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 47: The Young Lady Takes the Initiative and Grabs His Sleeve
Claire Shaw resignedly closed her eyes.
Men are all the same; they do all this just for her body.
As the last piece of clothing was peeled away, the bathtub water rose to Claire Shaw’s waist.
Milky white water surface floated with rose petals, the woman’s hands placed in front of her chest, the faint scenery tempting anyone.
The man did not touch her body, instead, he applied some foam on her head, washing her hair.
This unexpected action caught Claire off guard.
"Lie down, close your eyes."
Claire followed the man’s command and lay down, feeling his powerful fingers gently massaging her head, her tense body gradually relaxing.
Slowly, her emotions were soothed by the pleasant fragrance, as gentle clear water cascaded down her scalp, carrying away the foam and seemingly her worries as well.
In the comfortable water temperature, Claire felt a bit lightheaded, as if she had arrived at a rose garden.
There, the wind was gentle, the sky was blue, without schemes, only freedom.
Seeing Ethan Blackwood tiptoe away, Claire felt a bit desolate; he didn’t touch her.
Did she misunderstand?
At the moment the door closed, Ethan Blackwood’s already stern face was covered by frost, exuding a chilling aura.
He dialed a phone number, "Check Ms. Shaw’s whereabouts tonight."
He added, "Also Owen Crawford."
On the other end, Finn Pierce nodded, "Yes."
Claire opened her eyes, the bathroom was void of his presence.
Her skin was all wrinkled from soaking, Claire washed her body clean with water.
Looking up to grab a towel, she noticed many new items in the bathroom.
Such as the pink bathrobe hanging there, forming a stark contrast in size with the light gray men’s bathrobe beside it, like a bird nestled close to a man’s side.
The shelf displayed several pairs of slippers.
Cool sandals, satin silk slippers, and white furry slippers.
Claire chose a pair to wear, fitting perfectly snug.
Even the bathrobe was her size.
The washstand no longer had samples, but was filled with luxury brands, all unopened.
Among them, the rose-scented body lotion was placed most prominently.
She had only visited once, yet he prepared so much for her.
Even near the entrance, the floor was covered with carpets.
Claire’s feelings were complex.
She walked out of the bathroom, a cool breeze greeted her, dispelling the heat from her bath.
Claire looked up to see a shirtless man leaning against the hallway, shielding the incoming wind and rain while lighting a cigarette.
Inhaling and exhaling white smoke, he looked towards Claire.
The balcony lighting was dim, the night deepening the sharpness of the man’s features, especially those deep eyes, hiding a hint of danger.
Ethan Blackwood extinguished the cigarette, striding with his long legs towards her.
He pointed to the food on the table and headed towards the bathroom, "I’m going to take a bath, have some food."
The casual tone was unlike former lovers amidst passion, more like amiable friends.
Claire never had much appetite for food, but on the table was a plate of black gold beef and matsutake fried rice.
Perhaps because she hadn’t eaten staple food for quite some time, her stomach grumbling with hunger, Claire’s mouth watered at the aroma in the air.
She scooped a spoonful, the flavors danced on her tongue.
Not only was there the freshness of matsutake and the tenderness of beef, but also the special taste of black truffle sauce.
Beside it was a pot of chicken soup, obviously simmered for a long time, seemingly light, yet retaining the original flavors of the ingredients well.
Some say that good food can heal the soul, Claire never believed it, but now she did.
Her heart didn’t feel as empty.
Especially after drinking the chicken soup, she felt warm all over.
"Looks like you really enjoy my chef’s cooking."
Ethan Blackwood, somehow already behind her, bathed much quicker than a woman.
His wet hair still dripping, without gel it fell naturally, losing some of its elegant sophistication, gaining a touch of approachability.
Claire had eaten two-thirds, the chicken soup mostly gone, she rarely had such an appetite outside.
Her face flushed rosy pink, feeling a bit embarrassed, she replied, "Yes, it tastes good."
"Glad you like it. It’s raining heavily outside, if you’re tired, just stay here. I have a video conference tonight, feel free."
As he headed to the study, Claire grabbed his sleeve.
She didn’t want to keep guessing, wanting Ethan Blackwood to give her clarity.
Her gaze was clear, her face serious, "Ethan Blackwood, isn’t it time you gave me an answer to that question."
