Substitute Bride: Utterly Pampered by Her Billionaire Husband-Chapter 1307: His Little Princess

The plush doll, wearing a pink princess dress, is especially adorable.

Miles Linden looked at the shop owner, "How much for this? I’ll take it."

Choosing sanitary pads in the teenage girl style, buying dolls in princess dresses, the shop owner laughed, "Young man, you really spoil your girlfriend, turning her into a little princess."

Miles paid the money, and thought to himself, she is truly a little princess, and certainly the little princess in the palm of his hand.

...

Willow Crawford had already sat up; she leaned against the window watching. Outside, the rain was pouring down, but he went out and must have gotten wet. She should have tightly held him back to stop him from going out earlier.

When will he come back?

Willow was worried about him on one hand, and scared staying here alone on the other. Overall, every second he was away felt like years; she didn’t know what this feeling was, just that it was very hard to endure.

At this moment, the "ding-dong" of the doorbell sounded.

"Who is it?"

"It’s me."

When that familiar, rich voice came, Willow swiftly threw off the covers and got out of bed, running barefoot to the door and quickly opened it, finding Miles soaked through standing outside.

"Miles, you’re back, your clothes are all wet."

"It’s fine." As he spoke, Miles’ gaze fell on her bare feet, his brow furrowing in disapproval, "Who told you to go barefoot? Your stomach doesn’t hurt anymore, but you still can’t catch cold now."

"I..."

Willow wanted to explain that she had been too eager to open the door for him and forgot to put on shoes. But at this moment, Miles came in, the handsome young man crouched down and reached out to hold her warm and delicate ankle.

With one hand holding her ankle and the other taking out slippers, he helped her put on shoes himself.

Willow’s heart skipped a beat.

Then Miles stood up, "Why are you still standing there? Go lie down on the bed."

He was soaked through; otherwise, seeing her foolishly standing there he would have hugged her.’

"Oh." Willow turned and ran "thump thump" up to the bed, obediently listening to him.

"Miles, hurry and take a hot shower; don’t catch a cold." She urged him.

Miles didn’t enter the shower; he opened a bag and mixed a cup of brown sugar water to hand to Willow, "Drink it while it’s hot."

"Leave it there, I’ll handle it myself. You go shower first..."

"Do you want me to feed you?"

"...." Willow swiftly took the cup of brown sugar water and gulped down two big mouthfuls.

Then Miles handed her a hot water bottle, "Put this on your stomach."

"Thank you." Willow took the hot water bottle.

Then Miles handed her something else, "This is for you too."

Willow looked up and saw he was holding a plush doll.

Her eyes lit up; no girl can refuse a high-value doll, and she was no exception. She didn’t expect Miles to buy her a doll even while braving the storm.

The doll, kept in a bag, was carried back by him in his embrace, so it wasn’t wet at all.

"You bought it?" Willow looked up at him.

"Yeah," Miles nodded, "Sorry, next time we’ll stay at a better hotel."

Willow felt a twinge of pain in her heart; although neither of them said it outright, the barriers of their backgrounds stood here. He was apologizing for bringing her to this simple hotel.

This young man had a cool and proud nature, but in front of the princess-origin Willow, he held an air of careful humility and reverence.

Willow lightly swayed her feathers, then softly huffed, "Who said there will be a next time? I don’t want to go to a hotel with you!"

She took the doll and happily hugged it to her chest.

Miles curled his lips slightly, turned, and entered the bathroom, "You sleep first, I’m going to shower."

...

The sound of rushing water came from the shower; he was bathing inside, and Willow lay on the bed.

After drinking a cup of brown sugar water, with the hot water bottle on her stomach, she felt the swelling and pain in her lower belly ease, and it didn’t hurt anymore.

Willow held the doll he bought in delight, even giving the doll’s face a couple of kisses. Oh, how could the doll he bought be so cute?

At this moment, Willow remembered something; she quickly took out her phone and found Vivi Xavier’s messages had blown up, asking why she hadn’t returned home yet.

Willow replied to Vivi, it’s pouring outside; I can only wait for it to stop before going home. Go to sleep first; don’t wait up for me.

Ding, Vivi’s reply came quickly, Willow, you’ve finally come online, where are you now? I’ll send a driver to pick you up; no rainstorm can block your way home.

Pick her up?

Actually, Willow had thought of that, but Miles was here...

Vivi, don’t worry about me; I’m fine, no need to come pick me up.

Vivi, you don’t want to go home, do you? Spit it out honestly; where are you now, oh my, you wouldn’t be with Miles, would you?

Vivi had guessed it.

Willow wanted to reply, but Vivi sent a barrage of messages,

Oh my Willow, it’s so late yet you’re still on a date with Miles.

Where are you now? You wouldn’t be in some little forest, right? No, with all this rain, perhaps you two are... in a hotel room?

Willow, are you alright? Did you... with Miles... what?

Vivi’s innocence knows no fear, so she dared ask anything, but Willow’s face turned beet-red, and she replied with a simple No!

Vivi, really? Miles can hold back?

Willow, Miles is a gentleman; he doesn’t have those bad intentions!

Vivi, yeah right!

Willow, Vivi, don’t speak ill of him!

As soon as this message was sent, a "click" sounded, and the bathroom door suddenly opened, with Miles walking out.

Miles had already showered, changed into clean new clothes, a white tee and black pants, his short hair moist and lying over his forehead, making the boy in the dim light mesmerizingly handsome.

"You finished showering?" Willow showed bright eyes from under the covers.

"Yeah." Miles casually wiped his short hair before lying on the sofa, "Does your stomach still hurt?"

"No more." Willow shook her head, "Miles, am I troublesome?"

Throughout the night, she had been fussing here, and he had been taking care of her; Willow felt she was quite troublesome.

Miles glanced at her briefly, the young girl’s arms supported on the bed, with a large collar unbuttoned on her school shirt, revealing a faint glimpse of a white halter inside, slender, pure black hair tangled around her neck—white, red, black—strongly stimulating one’s eyes.

If she was troublesome, then please keep troubling him in the future and not go to others.

He liked trouble.

Miles shook his head, "No."

The room had no air conditioning; outside, the storm had made the temperature drop suddenly. The only blanket was given to Willow, who after sleeping awhile popped out a small head again, "Miles, are you cold?"