NovelEnglishThalassa let out a sigh, finally finding a somewhat comfortable position for her legs, when the doorbell rang.
She hurried to the door, expecting her aunt, a smile blooming on her face, "Aunt Clara, how was your day with—" Her greeting was cut short at the sight of David standing at the doorway, pushing a wheelchair. Seated in it was a presence too imposing to ignore. It was Lysander! His striking features, noble as a marble statue, seemed to command the elements, his aura icy and unapproachable.
Seeing Lysander, Thalassa's smile vanished, her nerves tightening, a wave of anxiety washing over her. "Lysander, what brings you here?" Lysander's dark eyes lifted to her. She was in a nightgown, her hair damp, a mist of water vapor wrapping around her. Her dark hair draped over her pale cheeks, creating a stark contrast, like a lily fresh from the water.
Just the sight of her like this made Lysander's gaze darken, his throat tightening.
Without responding to Thalassa, Lysander glanced behind him.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtDavid quickly got the hint, let go of the wheelchair, and left.
Lysander wheeled himself into the house, and Thalassa quickly made room for him. As he settled by the sofa, Thalassa, slightly tense, offered, "I'll get you a cup of tea." "No need. Come, sit," Lysander steadied his wheelchair, his gaze flicking to her.
His voice carried an authority that was hard to defy.
Even in her own home, Thalassa found herself drawn by his commanding presence, obediently sitting across from him.
As soon as she sat, Lysander's sharp eyes caught sight of a large bruise on her leg, alarming in its intensity. His eyes narrowed, "Did you hurt yourself just now?" He had heard her cry out in pain when she was helping him down the stairs earlier.
C NOW PLAY YOUR FAVOURITE GAMES ON He had asked if she was hurt, and she had denied it.
She had lied! The injury looked severe.
Realizing his concerned gaze on her leg, Thalassa hastily pulled down her dress to cover the bruise, "It's just a scratch, really." Her attempt to conceal the injury was interrupted by his firm grasp, his hand warm and strong, a touch both familiar and strange.
Her heart skipped a beat, freezing her actions, as she looked up into Lysander's intense gaze.
"When will you stop avoiding my questions?" Lysander's voice, deep and reproachful, filled the space.
Thalassa didn't even notice when he had wheeled closer, his presence overwhelming, his breath warm on her face, stirring familiar feelings. Search the Findwebsite on Gøøgle to access chapters of early and in the highest quality.
"I" She faltered, attempting to explain.
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"Don't speak," Lysander cut her off, releasing her hand and lifting Her leg el with an authoritative ease. His touch was commanding, leaving no room for objection.
His rough palm against her soft skin sent a jolt through her an electric current that raced to her heart, leaving her feeling weak. Thalassa instinctively tried to retract her leg, but Lysander firmly held it in place, "Don't move!" His voice was a low command.
He lifted her leg onto his lap, leaning in to examine the bruise.
As he drew closer, the faint scent of sandalwood from him teased her senses, memories of past Corn entanglements rushing back, making Thalassa's heart race, her breath catch.
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