The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes-Chapter 115- A Burning Heart

"Alright, don’t be mad anymore."

Janet reached over and gently wiped the raindrops off his face. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was angry because of the sudden downpour—or because their little moment had been rudely interrupted.

Watching his childish reaction, Janet couldn’t help but curve her lips into a smile. Her heart melted a little.

After starting the engine, Charles pressed his lips into a tight line and silently drove toward the nearest motel in town. But just as things couldn’t get worse, the car broke down midway.

"Sh*t!"

Charles jumped out into the pouring rain to check the car. Without any tools, he was completely helpless. Judging by the distance, the town was still at least thirty minutes away on foot—and that was without torrential rain.

"Maybe we should wait for the rain to stop first," Janet suggested, watching him return to the car, completely soaked. Her gaze flickered to the blurred windshield, but all she could see was a white mist of rain.

"Are you cold?" Charles turned on the heater. He didn’t want her catching a cold. He took the towel Janet handed him and began drying his hair.

The storm raged for more than twenty minutes before it finally lightened up a little. Charles stepped out to reassess their surroundings. It was clear—the rain wouldn’t stop anytime soon, and the car wasn’t going anywhere.

They had no choice but to find a place to stay.

"Charles, isn’t that a motel over there?"

Janet’s eyes lit up as she pointed toward a rundown building across the road. It looked shabby and easy to miss unless you were really looking for it.

"That dump?" Charles scoffed immediately. There was no way the young master of the prestigious Philip family was going to stay in a place like that. Five-star hotels were his baseline.

"Suit yourself. I’m going."

Janet opened the door and stepped out with zero hesitation. Stay in a broken car overnight? No, thank you. She’d rather crash in a sketchy motel.

"Hey, Janet! Wifey, wait—!"

Charles scrambled out and chased after her. In the end, he followed her awkwardly into the tiny lobby. It was probably a roadside motel built for stranded tourists like them. As luck would have it, there was only one room left.

"Pay up."

After checking in, Janet casually grabbed Charles’s suit jacket and dug out his wallet. Her eyes paused momentarily at a photo inside, before smiling sweetly. Without saying a word, she followed the staff upstairs.

"What the hell is this place?"

Charles grumbled under his breath, completely unimpressed by the humble furnishings. But since his wife insisted on staying here, what choice did he have? He could only swallow his pride and follow along.

"Just endure it for one night, alright? Be a good hubby."

Janet chuckled, patting his cheek like she was coaxing a child. Three imaginary black lines practically slid down Charles’s forehead. To make matters worse, the hotel staff was still within earshot.

So much for his proud image.

"Forget enduring... What if we just don’t sleep tonight, hmm?"

Once the staff left, Charles pulled Janet into his arms, whispering suggestively in her ear.

"W-What are you doing?"

Janet’s clothes were still damp, and their bodies were pressed closely together. The warmth of his skin sent a jolt through her. The moment they were denied earlier on the beach—it was now surging back with full force.

"What do you think?"

His long fingers traced her cheek, and then actions took over where words left off.

"No—my clothes are soaked. I need a shower!"

Janet squirmed, trying to avoid his burning gaze. Her damp clothes clung uncomfortably to her skin, making her feel gross.

"I’ll help you wash."

Clearly, Charles had no intention of letting her go. He scooped her up bridal-style and carried her into the narrow bathroom. It was small, yes—but with his beauty in his arms, who cared?

"Hey! Charles! Don’t be so shameless—I can shower by myself!"

Janet glared at him, eyes wide. Who knew the man who always looked so refined and cold could turn into such a rogue when turned on?

"Come on, wifey. Just let your husband serve you once, yeah?"

Charles stepped into the tub—barely big enough for one person. He hovered over her, arms braced on either side, trying not to crush her with his weight. His crimson eyes shimmered with unconcealed desire.

"Charles, can you please get out? I can’t shower like this!"

Janet held her clothes tightly to her chest, eyes lowered. She didn’t dare look into his eyes, afraid he might misunderstand any signal. She still remembered what happened that one night with Manfred—the drug, the madness—she wasn’t ready to repeat that.

"Fine. But hurry up. I’ll be waiting."

Charles finally relented. He kissed her cheek gently and leaped out of the tub.

Face flushed, Janet undressed slowly. His heated gaze had been so intense just now, she still felt her heart pounding. They hadn’t touched in days. Since arriving in Australia, she’d been physically weak, and he’d been holding back.

Now, without resentment between them, wasn’t it time to open their hearts completely?

"Janet, are you done yet?"

Ten minutes later, Charles was knocking on the bathroom door again, clearly impatient. He was about to slide the door open when—

Bam.

Right in front of him was the ultimate reward: a dripping-wet goddess emerging from the steam.

Her skin was as fair as freshly fallen snow, flawless and glowing like crystal. With bright eyes and pearly teeth, she radiated a shy allure that seemed to beckon and retreat at the same time. Her long, damp hair draped across her chest, and that breathtaking face—so stunning it looked like it had been painted with precious gems—was flushed a rosy red that made one’s mouth itch to take a bite.

"I’m done. Your turn," Janet said, casually wrapped in nothing but a towel.

The sight of her like this, combined with that teasingly innocent voice, made Charles’s Adam’s apple bob visibly. God, if he could, he’d pin her down right now to quench the fire that had been smoldering inside him these past few days.

"What are you staring at? No shower, no bed!"

Janet raised a brow, half-joking but fully aware of the dangerous heat in his gaze. Charles instantly got the message behind her words. Without another word, he dashed into the bathroom and took the fastest shower of his life—under two minutes flat.

The moment he emerged, still damp, he scooped her into his arms and tumbled with her onto the wooden bed behind them. The frustration that had been brewing in his chest all day?

Gone. Just like that.

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