He carried enough warmth, so when she leaned against him, her entire back felt comfortably warm.
"Of course I use them, too. The air is so bad now, the skin gets easily allergic. I just don’t wear makeup, but I use all these products. See, I rely on skincare, not natural beauty. Are you going to return me?" Charlotte Miller applied eye cream and gently massaged around her eyes, trying to alleviate some eye fatigue.
Last night she stayed up with Atlas Hallow looking at documents until almost two o’clock, but she really liked the feeling.
On the living room sofa, a bright lamp, two cups of tea, each sitting at one end of the sofa looking at documents, occasionally exchanging opinions until she felt her eyelids getting heavy, and he carried her together into the bedroom.
Doing nothing but sticking to her from behind, holding her waist, and quietly falling asleep, Charlotte found herself starting to appreciate this man.
If he were just a bit more gentle, really no woman could escape him.
"Is that so?" Atlas Hallow appeared to suddenly realize, perhaps he knew too little about his young wife?
"It’s part of my benefits, so leave it to me. I’ll take care of your skincare from now on." His large hands began to wander over her, today being a rare holiday; he couldn’t recall the last time he rested properly. It seemed having her there was making him want to slow his hurried pace.
The air turned thin and heated, emanating sweet scents that quickened the heartbeat.
"Your beard is so prickly..."
"Help me shave..."
Help him shave?
The man’s face appeared sharp under the light, as if sculpted by God’s hand. Charlotte sighed inwardly, indeed, the creator was biased, having spent the most time on Atlas. Every line on his face exuded a masculine charisma.
Charlotte’s eyes turned somewhat dreamy, moist and soft, her fingers lightly touching his chin. The newly grown stubble prickled her delicate fingers, while the contour of his chin was extremely attractive, with a somewhat arrogant dignity.
"I’ll teach you." Atlas Hallow caught her delicate, fair finger in his mouth, gently sucking it, which carried a faint scent of rose oil.
The white foam on his beard softened his somewhat robust lines, as her fingers applied the foam while the other hand held the razor, somewhat at a loss.
Atlas Hallow held her hand, guiding her along the foam, skillfully shaving downward.
It was truly magical, exposing smooth skin where the prickly stubble used to be, now all vanished.
This man can’t even shave peacefully, his hands wandering everywhere.
"Stop fooling around, be careful or I’ll nick your face." Charlotte’s voice sounded a bit complaining, and her body slightly trembled.
The phone rang in the bedroom, so early in the morning, who could be calling.
This phone wasn’t for work; not many knew the personal number. Atlas Hallow withdrew his hand from Charlotte’s sleepwear, took the razor from her hand, and smoothly shaved off the beard along his chin, then picked up a towel to clean, and tossed it onto the sink. He leaned over and lightly brushed Charlotte’s lips: "I’ll go answer the phone."
The driver’s hand trembled while he called.
Even if Miss Hill’s suicide couldn’t be blamed on him directly, he had been with her for years. The Eldest Young Master had mentioned that in case of emergencies, he could be called. Now such a big issue arose, what if someone died?
He’d be losing a high-paying, stable, and relaxed job. Miss Hill rarely needed a car, so he had plenty of downtime. Where could one find such a job?
"What’s the matter?" Atlas Hallow glanced at the phone number displayed on the mobile screen, furrowing his brow slightly. Clearly, receiving such a call on a beautiful morning was somewhat irritating.
The driver could tell from the Eldest Young Master’s tone on the phone that it wasn’t good, but not reporting such an issue wouldn’t do. Bracing himself, he quickly reported what had just happened: "Eldest Young Master, Miss Hill has just slit her wrists and attempted suicide. I’ve taken her to the hospital; the doctors are still trying to save her."