Mrs Hale, I Surrender
Chapter 451 - 450 Assault Kiss, Fascinated, I Want You... (2 more updates)

Chapter 451: 450 Assault Kiss, Fascinated, I Want You... (2 more updates)

"What happened to your hand?" Cressida noticed his reddened hand back, saw the water marks on the table, and the steaming cup of water. "Did you scald yourself?"

"It’s nothing, just a small burn."

"Just a small one?" Not caring about the pain in her legs, Cressida grabbed his wrist and walked him over to the sink, turned on the cold water, and put his hand under it, letting the water repeatedly rinse it.

The heating was on in the room. She had changed into a long, cream-colored sweater dress, revealing her delicate, tender white ankles, looking anxious and tense.

"How could you carelessly burn yourself? You’re not a three-year-old child anymore."

"Make sure it doesn’t affect your work after the New Year."

...

Cressida looked at the large reddened area on his hand back, frowning heavily, completely unaware of how close they were, only his voice right by her ear, "Cressida."

That address, it sounded so affectionate.

And with his voice deliberately lowered, it was seductively deep and magnetic.

The sound burrowed into her ears, making half her body feel ticklish.

Only then did she realize they were too close, their bodies pressed together, with Tim on the other side washing his hand, the other hand bracing against the sink, trapping her in front of him.

In an instant,

her heartbeat uncontrollably raced.

"I’ll go look for some burn cream." Cressida pushed him away, almost fleeing, tiptoeing to the cabinet above to search for the medicine box, but Tim followed her closely, step by step.

"Why are you running?"

"I’m not running, just looking for medicine for you."

Cressida opened the medicine box; due to grandma’s chronic illnesses, the house had a lot of medicines. She felt inexplicably panicky, rummaging through the medicine box in disorder, much like her current state of mind.

"What do you think of Michale Shaw?" Tim suddenly asked her.

Cressida froze for a few seconds.

Michale Shaw again!

She didn’t understand why Tim would suddenly bring him up, considering they knew each other. Not wanting to speak ill of others behind their back, she just said, "He’s not bad."

"Although sometimes he seems unreliable in his words and deeds, he is still very gentlemanly toward girls."

Hearing this, Tim felt inexplicably stuffy inside.

Could it be...

She really liked Michale Shaw?

It’s undeniable that Michale Shaw’s personality is indeed likable, coupled with his handsome face, there are plenty of high-profile women in the circle who like him.

Cressida glanced at Tim, his complexion, why did it look increasingly bad.

Did she say something wrong?

That couldn’t be, how could complimenting someone be wrong?

The atmosphere sunk into awkwardness again. Cressida cleared her throat, "Why do you suddenly bring up Michale Shaw?"

"Do you like him?"

Cressida stood frozen; this was the third person today to ask her this. Misunderstandings from Beckett Jeans and Marigold mattered little to her, but facing Tim, worried about his misunderstandings, she blurted out before her mind could think: "I don’t like him!"

"Really?" Tim felt his breathing was much easier than before.

A delight formed within him, though his face showed nothing.

"Of course, I know who I like and don’t. Besides, Michale Shaw is not my type at all."

"What type do you like, then?" Tim wanted to know, how close he was to the type she liked.

This question made Cressida freeze.

She couldn’t possibly say:

I like someone like you.

Tim had made it clear previously, he didn’t like her.

If he knew she had inappropriate thoughts about him, she feared they couldn’t even remain friends.

And Tim, unaware of the inner turmoil and conflict she went through in those few seconds, just eagerly wanted an answer. He knew that responses given subconsciously are more honest and reliable, the more she thought, the more fabricated it could become.

So...

He couldn’t let her think.

He took another step forward.

His entire presence closed in on her.

Cressida’s breath deepened instinctively, she backed up, but the cabinet was behind her, leaving no room to retreat.

In her eyes, Tim’s face grew nearer, so close that his breath brushed against her face.

"Tell me, what type do you like?"

His speech came heavily.

The breath,

was scorching, burning.

He intensely scrutinized her, his gaze wandering across her face, seemingly not wanting to miss any slight expression change, the gap between them minimally existent.

At this moment, the sky was gradually dimming, a remnant glow from the window spilling into the room, turning it into a warm orange hue, and Cressida’s face got redder, her gaze fixed solely on him.

The type she liked?

It was the person who filled her heart and eyes right now.

She dared not say, and as she remained silent, with her face getting redder, as if about to bleed.