Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1351: Really Think You’re Mrs. Cheney?

Chapter 1351: Chapter 1351: Really Think You’re Mrs. Cheney?

Sylvan Cheney’s hand injury had already been treated, and he stood at the bathroom door for quite a while without any reaction from Jasmine Yale.

He walked in, bent down, and shook her shoulder with his hand: "Jasmine Yale."

"Mmm." Jasmine Yale smacked her lips but didn’t wake up.

Sylvan Cheney frowned, wrapped her in a bath towel, and lifted her out of the bathtub.

This time, Jasmine Yale woke up.

Still drowsy, she immediately hooked her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek with a "smack."

After the kiss, she giggled.

For the first time, she felt this man so close to her.

So close that, at this very moment, he belonged only to her.

Sylvan Cheney frowned with distaste.

Jasmine Yale rested her little head in the crook of his neck and nuzzled it.

Her body emitted a pleasant fragrance that wafted straight into his nostrils.

Sylvan Cheney’s blood surged in an instant, his throat moved, and his grip around her tightened.

Her lips were soft, her body smelled nice, and her smile was sweet.

This version of Jasmine Yale was irresistible to Sylvan Cheney.

The mess on the floor had been cleaned up, and the bedroom was tranquil once more.

Seeing that his hand had been treated, she said cautiously, "Starting tomorrow, I won’t anger you and you won’t anger me, okay?"

"Don’t push your luck. I could send you away at any moment."

Jasmine Yale nuzzled his neck again.

From the sound of it, it seemed like he had come to an understanding, at least he wouldn’t send her away tomorrow.

Close to him, she detected a hint of tobacco scent on his collar.

"Have you been smoking in secret again?"

"Don’t meddle too much."

"No more smoking, it’s bad for your health."

"It’s none of your concern."

"Why won’t you listen to me? It’s bad for you. If you insist on smoking, then I’ll smoke with you." Jasmine Yale was upset.

"Jasmine Yale, do you really think you’re Mrs. Cheney, huh?"

"No," she shook her head, wrapped her arms around his neck, and looked at him with her watery, wide eyes, "I’m just Mr. Cheney’s lover."

"You!"

"Hehe," Jasmine Yale giggled.

"How shameless. You’re okay with being a lover?"

"Then give me a proper status!"

Sylvan Cheney’s face darkened. He walked over to the bed, threw her onto the large bed, and casually pulled over a blanket to cover her.

Jasmine Yale patted the space next to her, "Are you sleeping here?"

"If I don’t sleep here, where else would I sleep?"

Jasmine Yale laughed shyly, pulled over the blanket, and covered her face, hiding under it and giggling secretly.

Sylvan Cheney could do nothing about her; he got into bed and turned off the lights.

The spacious bedroom sank into darkness, the night deepened, and silence enveloped everything.

On the large bed, Jasmine Yale reached out and touched Sylvan Cheney’s chest, then scooted closer.

"Did you take your medicine tonight?" Jasmine Yale asked with concern.

"Mmhmm."

"Does your hand still hurt?"

"It’s just a minor injury, no big deal." Sylvan Cheney closed his eyes.

It wasn’t that he was very tired, it was just that every now and then she would brush against him, igniting the fire inside him to flare up.

Over and over again, he couldn’t settle down to sleep.

So, Sylvan Cheney had no choice but to push her gently, grumbling, "Sleep properly."

"Cold."

"Cold what?"

"Just cold."

"Don’t make excuses."

When she was a child, the excuse was fear of thunder; now, it was being cold. She sure had plenty of excuses.

Jasmine Yale didn’t listen and snuggled closer.

"Stay away."

"No."

"Disobedient? Go hungry tomorrow."

"Then I’ll go hungry." Jasmine Yale agreed readily, not believing he would actually let her go hungry.

She burrowed into his embrace, her restless hands touching here and there.