The President's Accidental Wife

Chapter 212

"You had better not let me see guilt on your face, Mrs. Valentine,” Mark said.

Summer's hand paused for a second. "But you are hurt because of me. This is an undeniable fact."

He glanced down at her with his charming but cold face, his voice as deep as ice, when he said, "It is a

man's responsibility to protect his wife. Who else would you want to come to save you if not me?"

She was stunned at hearing this. Following immediately, a burst of warmth rose within her, along with

some unexplainable emotions that made her shiver and jump for joy.

He had said nothing nice to her, but these simple words of his were the best among them.

Tenderness quickly concealed those fears and terror, her expression softening. She then went into the

kitchen and made him soup.

She did not drink the soup but just sat across from him, looking at him and getting a sense of

satisfaction that she had never had before when he drank all of it.

He was a left-hander, and he hurt his right hand. So his injured hand did not affect his daily life much.

The bed in the room was huge, more than enough for

the two of them. He lay on the bed first. When she got i n later, he immediately took her into his arms.

He put his long and strong thigh over her waist and use his arm as a pillow for her head to rest on. He

then hugged her in his arms.

This posture was uncomfortable and intimately close. She wriggled.

Mark placed his chin against her hair and said with a deep voice, "Keeping wiggling if you want to hurt

my wound further-the harder, the better.”

This trick worked like a charm as she calmed down immediately and remained motionless. She did not

want to hurt his wound that had just been bandaged.

His lips curled upwards and his eyes softened. His eyes sharpening up as something came to mind. "

Were you scared just now?" he asked softly.

She was startled, grabbing the shirt in front of his chest with both hands and feeling his warmth. She

then slowly shook her head.

"Are you hurt?" Feeling worried, he kept asking. His eyes narrowed into slits as he lifted her clothes

and felt up her body for any injury she might have.

Her body felt ticklish, her cheeks slightly reddening. She quickly stopped him and said unequivocally,

"No.

I am not hurt."

Those fears were not worth mentioning in front of this warmth, and they were quickly drowned out. At

this

moment, she only felt his softness.

Mark was relieved upon hearing that. He loosened her up a bit. "Go to sleep. Hug me if you have

nightmares."

"Mmm."

They closed their eyes, their hearts getting closer and closer together amid the faint breathing sound in

the silent room.

The next morning.

Summer woke up first, while the man beside her was still asleep. His hair dangling down his forehead

covered his otherwise penetrating eyes, adding a sense of casualness to his look.

His arms were still around her waist, his chin was still resting on her hair, and his hot breath was

blowing at the top of her head.

She was still lying on her side. Her eyes were fixated o n him. They were only inches away from each

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His eyebrows were black and thick, the bridge of his nose was tall and sculpted. When he closed his

eyes, h e looked so casual and gentle.

But when those eyes were opened, they would be penetrating, like a vortex; when they were gloomy,

they were like a night sky full of clouds and haze; and when they were gentle, they were like a warm

breeze i n the summer.

His lips were thin, but they were beautifully curved. People often say that maple lips are the thinnest

lips.

But sometimes, the person who looks the most unaffectionate is often the most affectionate.