Chapter 499: A Bit of Male Pride
At this very moment, Jasmine Yale felt horrible.
But, Sylvan Cheney felt even worse!
“Are you still refusing to speak?” he demanded.
The thought of another man appearing in her bedroom at night agitated him immensely!
Let alone, a young, handsome man that was as good looking as he was.
The last bit of pride Sylvan had as a man was almost entirely worn away.
Jasmine Yale bit her lip, her eyes red as she fought back the tears. But they came anyway, she cried.
She cried really hard.
“Damn it.” Sylvan blurted out in anger.
Her tears were his Achilles heel. If she cried, he could do nothing to alleviate his frustration.
Finally, Sylvan lifted himself off her, held her by the shoulders, much like handling a baby chick.
“Go wash up!” he demanded.
Jasmine was released by him, rushing barefoot into the bathroom without even having time to put on her slippers.
Sylvan suppressed the anger rising within him and walked out to the balcony, lighting a cigarette.
Cold foggy wind blew into his face.
The glow of the lit cigarette intermittently shone in the darkness, releasing waves of smoke.
It took a long time for Sylvan to suppress the fire within him.
He had to face the fact that Jasmine didn’t seem to like him as much as before, her heart now harbored someone else.
No matter how well he treated her, she still seemed oblivious to his affection.
The cold night wind on his face felt bitterly cold, cutting like a knife.
Like that time in the forest, when he appeared before her, she had no idea he would show up.
In her heart, the him who would always protect her when she’s in danger, was no longer there.
Jasmine dawdled in the bathroom, taking her time with her bath.
She hadn’t expected Sylvan to return. Last night when he called her, he was still in the U.S.
Upon pushing the bathroom door open, she saw his tall figure leaning against the balcony edge.
His every move was so charming.
But Jasmine wasn’t as interested as before.
She took a towel to dry her hair, then went to the cupboard to get a hairdryer.
Sylvan put out his cigarette and walked over to hher, snatching the hairdryer from her hands.
“I’ll do it for you.”
“I can do it myself.” Jasmine refused.
“You’re just going to refuse anything I offer?”
Feeling helpless, Jasmine succumbed to his decision.
But she didn’t trust his hairdrying skills.
Unexpectedly, this time, his technique had improved significantly.
His slender fingers moved skillfully through her hair while the warmth of the hairdryer spread out in all directions.
Jasmine sat in the cozy chair, wrapped in a blanket, swinging her legs back and forth.
Sylvan stood behind her, patiently drying her hair.
He was remarkably patient, going over the same spots again and again, without showing any signs of annoyance.
“I still prefer your long hair.” Sylvan frowned.
“Everyone says my current hairstyle looks good.”
“You just have to do the opposite of what I want, don’t you?”
“You’re overthinking.”
“Cut off all your liaisons outside, I will take care of you.”
“I can take care of myself.” Jasmine rebutted.
“You ate hotpot alone at home during lunch?”
“Was it with Mr. Seasons?”
“Yes, it was with Mr. Seasons. So what? Are you jealous?”
“Jasmine, are you trying to provoke me?” Sylvan’s frustration peaked.
Jasmine gave a mocking laugh. Seeing Sylvan unhappy seemed to please her.
Sylvan felt even more helpless.
While she was distracted, he tickled her underarms.
“Sylvan Cheney!” Jasmine yelled out in anger, “What the hell are you trying to do?”
Sylvan’s lips curled upwards, he leaned closer and whispered in her ear: “I want to have you.”