Mr. CEO's Substitute Bride-Chapter 1076 - 1072: Training Her to Be Like Sophie Foster
At this moment, watching Beatrice Hargrave only sit on the sofa with her lips pursed, looking at him, Nicholas Croft felt an indescribable disappointment, even though the two of them looked alike, but she was still not Sophie Foster.
As he walked over, he bent his lips and said gently, "Go take a bath, I’ve already filled the tub for you."
"Thank you, Uncle," Beatrice Hargrave smiled shyly and stood up under Nicholas Croft’s gaze, heading toward the bathroom.
Once the bathroom door was closed, Beatrice Hargrave no longer maintained her shy persona. She leaned her forehead against the tiled wall, closed her eyes, started pounding the wall, and stomped her feet.
This man is really wicked, knowing that she has no immunity to his body, yet he still appears half-naked in front of her. It must be intentional, he’s just trying to test her!
Nicholas Croft sat back on the sofa, just having tossed the towel on the low table, noises started coming from the bathroom. He turned his head and called out in confusion.
"Miriam, what’s going on?"
Beatrice Hargrave...
Immediately stopped her frantic actions, and shouted towards the bathroom door, "Oh, nothing, just that it’s too slippery, I almost fell just now."
"Be careful." Nicholas Croft instructed from the sofa, and Beatrice Hargrave responded, undressing piece by piece before getting into the bathtub, lying there comfortably with her eyes closed.
In the past, every night she would bathe together with Uncle Nicholas in here...
Outside the bathroom door, hearing the tranquility inside, Nicholas Croft got up, left the room, went downstairs to the wine cabinet, and took out a bottle of red wine. When he picked up the wine glasses, he hesitated for a moment but still took two, then returned to the upstairs bedroom.
He opened the red wine, leaned back on the sofa, and sipped it slowly, his eyes gently squinting in a daze.
The other wine glass on the low table was also filled with red wine, and there was a box of cigars placed on the table.
Knowing well that Beatrice Hargrave is not Sophie Foster, but subconsciously he still treats her as if she were, so he specially took out a box of cigars from the cabinet. In the past, when he wasn’t home, that little rascal always secretly smoked his cigars.
Leaning on the sofa, Nicholas Croft had one arm wrapped across his chest, holding the wine glass, memories of Sophie Foster filled his mind, his lips unconsciously curving into a smile, as if the girl were sitting opposite him right now, just like a little greedy cat, closing her eyes after a sip of red wine and then smacking her lips...
"Uncle, what are you doing?" Beatrice Hargrave had already come out of the bathroom, wrapped in Nicholas Croft’s large bathrobe, and when she saw him smiling foolishly towards the front, she curiously asked.
Nicholas Croft snapped back, seeing the girl standing beside him, smiled, "Nothing, Uncle was waiting for Miriam."
As he spoke, Nicholas Croft’s gaze inadvertently fell on Beatrice Hargrave’s calves, seeing that his bathrobe did not fully cover her legs, another wave of disappointment surged deep within.
She really wasn’t his Lara. In the past, Lara would wear his bathrobe that trailed on the ground.
Beatrice Hargrave was a few centimeters taller than Sophie Foster. Her chest... was also slightly larger than Sophie Foster’s, and also her face, without Sophie Foster’s baby fat, was a standard oval face.
And her voice, her skin... they’re all different from Sophie Foster’s.
"Oh," Beatrice Hargrave replied, sitting down opposite Nicholas Croft, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she yawned, then asked, "Aren’t you going to sleep?"
"Sleep, Miriam, have this drink with Uncle." Nicholas Croft picked up the glass of red wine from the low table and handed it to Beatrice Hargrave.
Beatrice Hargrave knew well, this bottle of wine costs tens of thousands, this man’s good wines and cigars are many, just hidden in that cabinet upstairs.
Looking at the red wine in front of her, she licked her lips and pretended to be in a bit of a dilemma, saying, "Uncle, Miriam doesn’t know how to drink, worried that I might get drunk..."
"Don’t be afraid, Uncle is here," Nicholas Croft encouraged warmly, hesitated again for a moment, then Beatrice Hargrave accepted the wine glass, brought the red wine to her lips, and took a small sip, then mimicked savoring it, pretending to taste it, looking very cute.
Looking at her, Nicholas Croft’s eyebrows and eyes softened, speaking gently, "How does it taste, is it good?"
"Hmm... it’s a bit bitter, and a bit spicy," Beatrice Hargrave thought for a moment, actually, deep down wishing she could gulp down the glass of red wine, considering it such a gourmet treasure!
But she couldn’t taste it recklessly like before, truly a great regret in life...
"Try again, like Uncle," Nicholas Croft gently coaxed, then brought the wine glass to his lips, slightly tilted his head, and took a sip, as the dark red liquid filled his mouth, he comfortably closed his eyes, savoring the rich aroma of the wine.
Seeing him intoxicated, Beatrice Hargrave followed his example and tried once, finding such a good opportunity really wouldn’t pass up, she also tilted her head and took a sip, closing her eyes to savor it carefully.
"How is it, isn’t it a lot better?" After a while, Nicholas Croft opened his eyes, looking at Beatrice Hargrave, the look on his face as if he wanted to cultivate her into another Sophie Foster.
"Hmm, it seems less bitter and not as spicy," Beatrice Hargrave nodded, Nicholas Croft leaned forward to pick up a cigar, while Beatrice Hargrave quietly watched him light it, and take a few puffs.
Involuntarily licking her lips, it had been years since she tried it, and she felt a bit greedy.
"Miriam, come over and sit next to Uncle," Nicholas Croft lazily leaned on the sofa, the towel draped over his lap loosely, accentuating the toned muscles of the man. Beatrice Hargrave bit her lips and shyly walked over.
As soon as she reached Nicholas Croft’s side, he pulled her into his embrace.
Sitting on Nicholas Croft’s lap, her back pressed against his chest, feeling the warmth through the bathrobe, Beatrice Hargrave pressed her lips, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes.
Turning slightly, she pretended to be shy as she bit her lip, watching Nicholas Croft exhale clouds of smoke.
"Good girl, try it,"
Nicholas Croft brought the cigar to Beatrice Hargrave’s lips, she shook her head, "Hmm~"
"Be good, just a little, Uncle likes it..." Nicholas Croft continued to entice her gently, watching the cigar close at hand, Beatrice Hargrave hesitated, then opened her mouth, cautiously taking it between her lips, after a small puff she immediately started coughing, covering her mouth, looking at Nicholas Croft wistfully.
Sigh...
Nicholas Croft took a deep breath, knowing that he was too selfish, shouldn’t treat Beatrice Hargrave as if she were Sophie Foster.
He placed the cigar in the ashtray, grasped the back of Beatrice Hargrave’s head and kissed her, his other hand holding hers, placing it on his chest, then grasping the other hand, when both small hands were pressed against his chest, Nicholas Croft imagined them as his Lara, the kiss, initially tender and lingering, suddenly turned passionate.
He captured Beatrice Hargrave’s lips, biting with some force, his fiery tongue invaded her mouth, tangled with hers, drew it into his own mouth...
