My Fiancé's Scandals Never End, So I Married His Uncle Instead-Chapter 62: Losing Control

But Silas Norwood quickly changed his mind.

He was no Quinn Sinclair.

With a man’s unique proportions, even the supposedly ’seasoned’ Eldest Miss Sterling fumbled repeatedly. As she struggled, she used too much force and rumpled his shirt, which had been buttoned primly to the top.

Her soft body rose and fell on his. The hair he had clumsily tied up for her came loose as she dipped down, the strands scattering and tangling wantonly against the skin exposed by his rumpled shirt. The moment she leaned in, they were so close he could see the friction between the fabrics of their clothes. The girl’s alluring fragrance was like a thousand ants, crawling over him with her every movement. A subtle, itching tingle spread across his tense body, and his steady, powerful heartbeat became erratic.

The man, who had always been restrained and self-disciplined, felt his palms grow slick with a thin layer of sweat. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Five seconds.

Celia Sterling had only done push-ups on him for five seconds, managing fewer than eight in total. She was only halfway through her ninth when Silas Norwood’s hands clamped firmly around her waist.

"Stop," he said, his voice low and hoarse. Undercurrents surged in his pale gold eyes. "We forfeit."

Celia’s waist was held fast by those powerful hands, preventing her from lowering herself another inch. She froze for a moment. Noticing that the usually aloof man’s expression was off, she was about to say something, but in the next instant, Silas Norwood was already gently pushing her away by the waist. He sat up and guided her back to their seats.

Celia Sterling still didn’t understand what was happening.

Silas Norwood gave a quiet command, "Lights off." The next moment, the light bathing their area suddenly dimmed. In the heavy darkness, Silas said nothing. His expression was taut and his breathing slightly ragged; he clearly wasn’t at ease.

"Silas?" Celia turned her head, wanting to get a good look at him, but in the next moment, he covered her eyes with his hand.

"Be good, Cece. Turn around and don’t peek."

His voice, though gentle, was tinged with a distinct hoarseness. Celia was no innocent, but her desire to win today had kept her from thinking too much. Now, using her head for just a moment, she understood the impropriety of this game for a man and a woman. She let out an awkward "oh." With her vision blocked, she reached out for support as she turned, and her hand inadvertently brushed against a very distinct hard curve beneath his suit trousers.

She snatched her hand back as if she’d been burned.

Her face instantly flushed crimson.

The atmosphere plunged into a strange, searing silence.

Neither of them spoke again or even looked at the other. But in the darkness, a large, well-defined hand reached out, grasped hers tightly, and interlaced their fingers.

Restrained, yet bold.

The event on stage continued. In contrast to the engaged couple, the temporary pairs up there were having a grand time. Eldest Young Master Warren watched as person after person lined up to pet a cat, most clearly just humoring him, and he could no longer hide his dejection.

Celia Sterling’s mind, however, was no longer on the stage.

More than ten minutes later, she quietly asked Silas Norwood, "This part is over. Want to go to the top deck to see the molten iron sparkler show?"

Silas Norwood paused for a few seconds. "Let’s wait a little longer."

And so they waited another ten minutes.

The man finally returned to his usual aloof and cool state. He stood up but didn’t let go of her hand. "Let’s go."

The molten iron sparkler show on the top deck was reaching its climax. Sparks shot into the sky like a thousand stars falling from above, a true manifestation of the saying ’trees of fire and flowers of silver’.

It was a breathtaking spectacle, different from any fireworks display.

"It’s so beautiful..." Celia marveled.

Amidst the sizzling, fiery meteors, Silas seemed to say something.

Celia didn’t hear him clearly and looked up at him. He stood in a brightly lit spot, a dazzling rain of sparks behind him that lent the refined and noble man a touch of worldly warmth. Celia asked him:

"What did you just say, Silas?"

Silas Norwood leaned down, close to her ear, his breath making the shell of her ear tingle. "My girlfriend is the most beautiful."

It was late at night by the time they returned to their suite.

The room had been tidied up nicely by Assistant Thorne. The pungent smell of the spicy hot pot had vanished without a trace. On the soft, large bed, two pillows were snuggled closely together. Celia hesitated by the bedside, and from behind her, Silas asked in a low voice:

"Want to shower first?"

Celia rubbed her hot cheeks and stammered, "I, uh, I prefer to shower second."

Silas, seemingly oblivious to her nervousness, said, "I’ll go first, then."

The sound of running water soon came from the bathroom.

On the translucent, frosted glass, indistinct shadows moved. She could vaguely make out Silas’s elegant movements as he undressed.

Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs...

’The ambiguous scene in the dark at the event replayed in her mind. Silas’s fiercely suppressed desire formed a stark contrast with his cold, ascetic face. The secret thrill of seeing that ’flower on a high peak’ tainted by desire made her throat feel a little dry.’

She drank glass after glass of water, fidgeting restlessly for a while until the bathroom door finally opened. The man walked out wearing a bathrobe. He was still radiating a cool mist, and droplets of water traced paths down his neck and into the hollow of his sexy collarbone. Beneath the loosely tied robe, she could faintly glimpse perfectly toned abs...

It was at this exact moment that a video call from Kian Sterling came through!

Celia’s hand moved faster than her brain, and she hit the accept button.

The night was deep in Metropia. Kian Sterling was sitting lazily on a sofa in his study, sipping a strong coffee as he reviewed reports.

"What have you been up to?" he asked, a routine check-in.

Celia gave a carefully standard answer. "We watched the sea, saw a lot of traditional cultural performances... but I couldn’t get used to the food on board, so Silas brought a chef from Metropia."

She deliberately omitted the part about the suggestive game.

"What’s the plan for tomorrow?" Kian asked casually.

Celia wasn’t sure either. "There are a lot of facilities. A pool, a cinema, deck surfing, a gym, a library... We’ll just pick something depending on our mood tomorrow. Silas said if the safety inspection passes, he’ll take me diving."

Kian Sterling slowly put down his report, his tone growing a few shades more serious.

"Even if the safety rating is okay, you need to take bodyguards who are expert divers to escort you from all sides."

"Mm."

As Celia agreed, she saw Silas Norwood walking toward her. Her fingers, gripping the phone, curled slightly in nervousness.

"Bro, it’s getting late."

"It’s only midnight," Kian said thoughtfully. "Cece’s always been a night owl."

Celia paused. "My skin’s been getting rough lately. I want to get my beauty sleep."

Kian Sterling watched her quietly for a few seconds, his eyes darkening, before he suddenly spoke. "Silas Norwood is in your room."

Celia was utterly amazed by her own brother’s perceptiveness! She stammered, "He’s... he’s in my room. We’re just chatting."

’A man and a woman, alone in a room late at night—what could they possibly be "chatting" about?’ Seeing Celia’s increasingly flustered expression, Kian couldn’t bring himself to push her further. He decided to confront Silas Norwood directly.

He took a few elegant sips of his coffee with a cold expression, then said slowly and deliberately, "Let Silas Norwood take the call."