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When Richelie Dunn woke up, she opened her eyes and saw the sky outside the terrace dyed red by the evening glow.

Amid the red clouds, a tall figure leaned slightly forward against the railing, holding a cell phone, chatting about something.

Richelle lifted the blanket and realized she was asleep in the guest room. Thinking back, her memory stopped after talking with Denise Munni and closing her eyes for a nap – everything beyond that was a blank.

Was she so exhausted that she ran to bed and slept on her own?

Or, had Roy Lewis carried her to bed to sleep?

As she pondered, the terrace door opened, and the man walked towards her step by step, enveloped in golden twilight.

Richelie’s heart raced like a beating drum, eyes fixed, unwavering on Roy as he approached, then watched him kneel on one knee onto the bed, his hands on either side of her, his body leaning forward, half-encircling her in his embrace.

“Awake?”

Like a cello’s alluring low voice, it seemed to brush her face with rouge, turning her cheeks red.

She propped herself up with her hand on the bed, instinctively moving backward to evade him.

As a doctor, she knew all too well the strength difference between men and women, and understood that at certain times, a man could be more terrifying than a starving wolf.

And a 30-year-old man experiencing his first relationship was like a fighter jet among starving wolves.

At this moment, this “fighter jet” was closing in, while deep in his eyes, two bushels of flames flickered.

“Roy Lewis…”

Richelle raised her knee to his chest, trying to push him away.

However, if she had guessed correctly, a man starved for so many years, just like he had said, would be like a burning house – no one could save him.

He reached out and, although they had only briefly touched each other that night, he knew her weakness and lightly scratched below her knee.

It was a sensitive area even Richelle herself didn’t know about; he gently scratched it with his fingertips, as if he was knocking on a door that was on the brink of collapse.

Richelle’s body softened, and as she heard his husky voice coaxing her, “Baby, behave!” she obediently lowered her foot.

Roy Lewis propped himself up with one hand on the bed and the other gently supporting her back, laying her slowly onto the bed.

Richelle’s body went limp like water, her mind racing as she blurted out, “Is your back okay now?”

Roy’s eyes were full of amusement, “You gave me a few shots, so it doesn’t seem to hurt much, and my head too.”

Well!

So she helped him heal his waist and head, just so he could have enough strength and leisure to devour her?

As Richelle berated herself, Roy’s face drew closer, pecking the tip of her nose before touching his forehead to hers, gazing at her with tender affection in his deep, dark eyes.

“Did you sleep well?”

Richelle’s eyes darted around, trying to dodge his captivating gaze.

“Ah… It was fine…”

Damn it, this was her home, this bed belonged to her, and she took him in out of the kindness of her heart.

How did he become the host, making her feel like the one he invited over?

Richelle, stand your ground!

Where is that arrogance you usually have when despising others? Assert yourself with this man!

But no matter how she encouraged herself internally, the real her blushed like a boiled shrimp, encircled in Roy Lewis’s arms, looking irresistibly enchanting.

Roy Lewis dreamed of various encounters with her for nearly two months, and now, he finally held her in his arms for real.

But he couldn’t bear to devour her in one bite.

Just like a child who’s finally got their favorite ice cream, carefully taking a small lick, then praying it melts slower so they could savor it longer.

Roy Lewis’s kiss, devout and cautious, landed on the corner of her eye.

Light and shallow, followed by a soft sigh.

“Your eyes… they are truly beautiful…”

Richelle felt so mortified that her toes curled up; she knew she was beautiful all over, but being kissed and praised like this made her want to crawl into a crevice.

So, when Roy kissed her cheek and sighed again, “Your skin is so nice…”, Richelle simply turned her face and kissed his lips.

Tsk, this man, just kiss, don’t talk so much!

Richelle used to accuse Roy Lewis of being a straight man who would throw curveballs, leaving her unprepared.

Little did she know that compared to her big, straightforward self, Roy seemed even more romantic.

Roy Lewis had a whole belly full of compliments, but after two, Richelle silenced him with her soft lips.

He hesitated at first, but quickly took the initiative, passionately feeling every inch of her burning skin with his lips.

All the world’s beauty seemed to merge into beautiful images, passing through his heart.

In the past, he found life dull, monotonous, and uninteresting, with days repeating and running on a boring schedule.

But after meeting her, life seemed to become colorful and full of excitement.

Even the most ordinary daily meal or pot of tea became more delicious and enjoyable because she was by his side.

The lingering and ardent kiss paused with their ragged breaths.

Richelle lay on the bed, her face flushed but feigning the manner of a veteran lover, as she lifted her hand to touch Roy’s face and questioned in a soft, sweet voice.

“How’s your old waist? Can it handle it?”

At her question, Roy felt a twinge in his lower back.

But as a man, there was no way he could admit his waist wasn’t up to the task.

He pecked her moist, cherry-red lips, “Of course it can! Dr. Dunn, do you want to check my injury?”

The touch of their bodies made Richelle distinctly aware of his difference, leaving her throat dry as if on fire and her face burning hot.

But even in such a distressed state, Richelle’s stubborn competitive spirit emerged.

With her hand on his waist, she made a professional declaration.

“Let’s check!”

Roy Lewis had only been teasing her, never expecting her to be so tenacious.

Feeling both amused and helpless, he carefully pulled her hand from his waist, and tried to softly coax her.

“Baby, stop fooling around!”

Richelle stared at him, “What, are you scared?”

Roy raised the white flag in surrender, “Yes, I’m scared.”

This girl, truly fearless.

Even if his injured waist indeed still hurt, if she continued to provoke him like this…

He wouldn’t mind enduring the pain for a few rounds of exercise.

He bent down, gave her a deep and distant glance, then whispered a threat into the slightly triumphant Richelle’s ear.

I m scared that tonight…. you won’t be able to get out of bed!”