The President's Accidental Wife novel Chapter 212

"You had better not let me see guilt on your face, Mrs. Valentine,” Mark said.

Summer's hand paused for a second. "But you are hurt because of me. This is an undeniable fact."

He glanced down at her with his charming but cold face, his voice as deep as ice, when he said, "It is a man's responsibility to protect his wife. Who else would you want to come to save you if not me?"

She was stunned at hearing this. Following immediately, a burst of warmth rose within her, along with some unexplainable emotions that made her shiver and jump for joy.

He had said nothing nice to her, but these simple words of his were the best among them.

Tenderness quickly concealed those fears and terror, her expression softening. She then went into the kitchen and made him soup.

She did not drink the soup but just sat across from him, looking at him and getting a sense of satisfaction that she had never had before when he drank all of it.

He was a left-hander, and he hurt his right hand. So his injured hand did not affect his daily life much.

The bed in the room was huge, more than enough for

the two of them. He lay on the bed first. When she got i n later, he immediately took her into his arms.

He put his long and strong thigh over her waist and use his arm as a pillow for her head to rest on. He then hugged her in his arms.

This posture was uncomfortable and intimately close. She wriggled.

Mark placed his chin against her hair and said with a deep voice, "Keeping wiggling if you want to hurt my wound further-the harder, the better.”

This trick worked like a charm as she calmed down immediately and remained motionless. She did not want to hurt his wound that had just been bandaged.

His lips curled upwards and his eyes softened. His eyes sharpening up as something came to mind. " Were you scared just now?" he asked softly.

She was startled, grabbing the shirt in front of his chest with both hands and feeling his warmth. She then slowly shook her head.

Summer woke up first, while the man beside her was still asleep. His hair dangling down his forehead covered his otherwise penetrating eyes, adding a sense of casualness to his look.

His arms were still around her waist, his chin was still resting on her hair, and his hot breath was blowing at the top of her head.

She was still lying on her side. Her eyes were fixated o n him. They were only inches away from each other.

His eyebrows were black and thick, the bridge of his nose was tall and sculpted. When he closed his eyes, h e looked so casual and gentle.

But when those eyes were opened, they would be penetrating, like a vortex; when they were gloomy, they were like a night sky full of clouds and haze; and when they were gentle, they were like a warm breeze i n the summer.

His lips were thin, but they were beautifully curved. People often say that maple lips are the thinnest lips.

But sometimes, the person who looks the most unaffectionate is often the most affectionate.