Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change? novel Chapter 1160

Here’s your text adapted into a Western, localized, natural, and conversational English novel style, with Western foods, customs, and names:

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To be honest, Francis was no spring chicken, but this was the very first time—in his clear-headed, sober life—that he’d ever shared a bed with a woman, let alone held one this close.

Was this… ungentlemanly?

Francis swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Rebecca White shifted in her sleep, rolling over to face him. She snuggled closer, settling right into his arms.

Her quiet sobs slowly faded.

A smile tugged at the corner of Francis’s lips. She needed him… That didn’t make him a cad, did it?

…

Somewhere in the middle of the night, Rebecca White woke up.

She woke up because she was starving.

Francis, worried about her, had left the bedside lamp on before they went to sleep.

Rebecca blinked her eyes open, startled to find herself nestled right in Francis’s embrace. Her cheeks flushed bright red.

Wait—hadn’t he been sitting up before she fell asleep?

Her stomach growled so loudly she couldn’t ignore it. Embarrassed, Rebecca gently grabbed Francis’s arm and began to ease her way out of his hold.

“Awake?” Francis’s deep voice rumbled suddenly.

“Ah!” Rebecca jumped, then forced a sheepish smile, “Yeah, um… I’m up.”

Francis rolled over and sat up, peering at her face, “You’re looking better. Eyes aren’t so puffy. You feeling okay? Head still hurt?”

Rebecca, still blushing, shook her head and admitted honestly, “Not really. I’m just… hungry.”

“Oh.”

Realization dawned on Francis. He reached over and ruffled her hair, chuckling low in his throat, “Got it. Hang tight—I’ll have someone whip up something for you.”

Rebecca, flustered, grabbed his hand, “No, no, really, it’s fine! I can just find a snack or something—no need to bother anyone.”

“It’s all right.” Francis shook his head, reassuring her, “That’s what the staff is for—to look after you.”

Knowing she’d gone to bed on an empty stomach, Francis had already told the housekeeper to stay on alert, just in case Rebecca woke up hungry in the middle of the night.

He grinned, “Deal.”

By the time Rebecca finished eating, it was late—really late.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and glanced at the dark windows. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “It’s really late.”

Francis nodded, already guessing what she was thinking.

“Let’s go up and get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

Rebecca stood up, and Francis followed, walking her back to her room.

When she opened the bedroom door, Rebecca stepped inside and turned around, facing him. “Um, are you… staying here tonight?”

Francis ducked his head, asking quietly, “Do you mind if I do?”

How was Rebecca supposed to answer that? After all, this was his house.

She hesitated, then finally said, “Well… give me a second, okay?”