Chapter 20: Bella Hill Calls
In a spray of water, Walker Richter stands in a pristine pose, rubbing his hair, water beading down his toned muscles …
I stood dumbfounded in the bathroom doorway, my eyes wide, my eyes moving down the droplets of water to catch a glimpse of the big guy, and my face flushed red.
That’s a body that gets full marks.
“Get out!”
Walker Richter yanked on a nearby towel and wrapped it around his face, which was cold.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
I snapped back to my senses and immediately brought the door with me and closed it.
In the middle of the night, who expected Walker Richter to be inside taking a shower.
I patted my heart as the scene I’d just seen came to mind, my heart racing as if it were going to jump out of my chest.
Nope.
This is my room. Why would Walker Richter take a shower in it?
I was just reacting when, with a snap, Walker Richter wrenched open the door and emerged wrapped in a towel, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, with even a mermaid’s line, thinly muscled and powerful, reminiscent of the explosiveness he must have had in that area.
Alva Hill, what are you thinking.
I hurriedly shook off the evil image in my head and stammered, “When did you, when did you get back?”
“Just got back.” Walker Richter returned to me in a tone so light that one couldn’t tell if he was happy or angry, and headed straight for the closet.
It was clearly my room, but he pulled a man’s bathrobe out of it and turned his back, and when I saw him about to untie the towel, I turned around in a hurry.
After waiting a while, I turned back.
Walker Richter sat on the couch with his legs crossed airily and hooked his index finger at me, “Come here.”
As if the cello’s low, deep voice, with a hint of compulsion, is simply criminal.
There was something different about Walker Richter tonight, the corners of his mouth curved in a shallow curve, those eyes like a wolf in the night locking onto its prey, ready to pounce and devour it.
“Fuck, what?” I was a bit of a wimp and didn’t dare go over there, “If you have something to say just, just say it here.”
He hooked his finger again, “Come here.”
I gulped, thinking that I had acted okay at the hospital during the day and he shouldn’t have noticed the end, so I bravely and slowly moved over, “This, this is my room, why are you in here.”
I was so tired when I got back today that I also forgot to unlock the door.
As soon as the words left my mouth and my body lost its center of gravity, Walker Richter ripped me into his arms, the fresh scent of shower gel mixed with a man’s distinctive scent enveloped me and my face immediately burned, my heart pounding.
In his ear was his compelling voice, “Don’t you want it? Grace?”
Both of my eyes glazed over, what was Walker Richter’s rant about in the middle of the night?
I was panicked and scared to death.
“I don’t want it.”
I hurriedly got up from his arms, I wanted him to be my support, to make him fall in love with me, but I didn’t think about ‘giving up my life’.
Walker Richter’s hands are tightly imprisoned around my waist, his large hands caressing my face with a gentleness that’s almost unlike him.
“Really don’t? You won’t get a chance next time.”
My eyes fell on his toned chest, and with the images I had just seen, it made my gaze shift downward.
In such an intimate position, it would be unnatural for me, a normal woman, not to have a reaction, but how Walker Richter is suddenly like this makes it seem like a conspiracy.
My head shook like a rattle drum, but my tone said regretfully, “Today is a bit inconvenient, husband, why don’t we do it some other time …”
“Forget it then.” Walker Richter suddenly let go of me, flipping his face faster than a book, “You go back to sleep, I’m going next door.”
I missed my footing and fell straight onto the soft carpet, and froze for a moment before getting to my feet as I watched Walker Richter walk out.This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.
At the end of the day, I didn’t understand what was going on with Walker Richter tonight.
The room was still heavy with the faint scent of the bath and her face was still burning.
In the latter part of the night, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep, and when I closed my eyes, Walker Richter was always in my mind, and I could even feel his burning breath erupting in my ears.
It was almost dawn before I fell asleep, but I had a difficult dream.
Dreaming of the man he’d been entwined with a year ago, it was a little blurry, but the feeling was real, hands touching his broad, firm back, holding on tightly under one impact.
As the man looks up, what was a blurry face gradually clears up into that of Walker Richter.
I was so scared I woke up straight from my dream.
I tapped my head, how could I dream of Walker Richter?
It must be from last night.
I looked at the time, nine in the morning.
Thinking about Fiona Croix in the hospital, I immediately washed and changed and hurried downstairs.
Walker Richter’s voice came hushed from the living room.
“Going somewhere.”
“You’re home?” I was a little surprised; normally at this time of day, Walker Richter would be out the door by now.
Walker Richter set aside the magazine in his hand, “Get ready to accompany me to a dinner party tonight.”
This is his way of informing me directly, not discussing it.
I have never attended any dinner party, the banquet to the time must be celebrities gathered, those social etiquette I do not understand, that year back to the Hill family, Frank Hill proposed to ask the teacher to teach me, Jane Hasis but only perfunctory promise, and finally Bella Hill stirred up, and did not ask the teacher.
Whenever they received an invitation to a party, Frank Hill and Jane Hasis were the ones who took Bella Hill out because Bella Hill was their pride and joy.
“I may … at night.”
I was about to make an excuse to excuse myself when Walker Richter’s cell phone rang, and he gave me an admonition that Emily would be dropping off the tuxedo for the evening, picked up the phone and headed out the door.
The dinner is a must.
I went to the hospital first, Fiona Croix hadn’t woken up, Jack Astor had gotten the news from somewhere and came to the hospital, I ran into him in front of the ICU, he saw me, a flash of shock crossed his eyes and subconsciously called out, “Alva Hill?”
Thinking about Jack Astor’s abandonment of Fiona Croix, I didn’t give a good look, “Mr. Astor, you’ve got the wrong person, I’m Bella Hill.”
Jack Astor’s gaze lingered on me for a few seconds before returning to his normal demeanor, “I’m sorry, you sisters are so much alike, I almost forgot that Alva Hill had passed away.”
“Thanks to Mr. Astor for remembering my sister.”
He asked, “You came to see Fiona Croix?”
The real Bella Hill is not close friends with Fiona Croix, and is limited to just knowing her, and won’t be visiting in the hospital.
“No, I’m visiting another friend, I heard about Fiona Croix’s accident and stopped by to see how she used to be a close friend of my sister’s when she was alive.”
Jack Astor didn’t doubt it.
With him here, I can’t afford to stay at the hospital any longer, so I have to go back first.
At 6:00 p. m. Emily delivered the gowns and brought a makeup artist with her, so it looked like tonight’s party was important.
After applying my makeup and changing into my dress, it was already 7:30pm.
I was amazed by myself in the mirror.
I’ve never been so dressed up before. I had a Cinderella-as-princess feeling.
Emily smiled and praised, “Young lady is so beautiful, with our President Richter is just like a man and a woman, a match made in heaven, tonight you will surely overwhelm the crowd.”
Good words are most pleasing to the ear.
“Thanks.”
I stepped out on my seven-centimeter heels and followed Emily to the dinner party.
I was a little nervous and a little excited along the way.
In the midst of these mixed emotions, the destination was soon reached.
Walker Richter was waiting at the door, and tonight he was wearing a white high-fashion suit that was supposed to be a couple’s version of the dress I was wearing.
“Young Lady, it’s here.”
Emily reminded me.
Walker Richter was already coming my way, and as I got out of the car with my gown, the cell phone in my handbag suddenly rang, and I worried that it was from the hospital, and even though I saw that it was an unfamiliar number, I immediately answered it.
I nearly threw my cell phone out in shock when a familiar female voice came eerily through the receiver.
“Alva Hill, how does it feel to be Ms. Richter?”