Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 194: Chapter 194: Want to Push Her Down on the Dining Table

Quentin Blackwood leaned in close, his masculine presence overwhelming. The faint scent of cedarwood seemed to intensify, enveloping Ivy Sherwood.

His face, mere inches away, was flawlessly perfect. She wondered how many people in the world ever got to see Quentin Blackwood from this close.

Ivy Sherwood sat on the cold table, meeting his gaze. His eyes were like whirlpools, a storm brewing in their unfathomable depths.

She was still trying to understand what Quentin Blackwood meant by wanting her. ’Does he literally want my body, or...’

Startled, her beautiful eyes darted about, unsure where to look.

Quentin Blackwood had unbuttoned the top of his shirt, revealing his Adam’s apple and collarbones. They were right in front of Ivy, who suddenly felt a wave of heat wash over her. Her mouth went dry.

"I... I don’t understand what you mean, Uncle."

"You don’t understand? When a man says he wants a woman, what else could it mean?" Quentin Blackwood’s hand suddenly gripped Ivy Sherwood’s chin, forcing her to look at him.

His grip wasn’t too forceful, and an intimate tension filled the air.

Ivy Sherwood’s dewy eyes were filled with innocence. The moment she looked at Quentin Blackwood, his pupils contracted sharply. He was tempted to push her right down onto the table.

Just then, the sound of something falling came from nearby. They both turned in unison to see the awkward butler.

"Oh dear, a man gets old, my eyes just don’t work at night. Where am I? Did I take a wrong turn?"

The butler turned, even reaching out his hands as if to feel his way around. "I didn’t see anything. I saw absolutely nothing."

Well, so much for the idea of pushing her onto the dining table. Ivy had already pushed him away and jumped down.

"It’s not what you think!" Ivy Sherwood tried to explain, but the man was already long gone.

"Not what he thinks?" Quentin Blackwood asked, looking at her.

’Does she really want to have nothing to do with me that badly?’

"The butler... he..." Ivy Sherwood was worried rumors would start. Though it wasn’t exactly a rumor, it would definitely affect Quentin Blackwood’s reputation.

"He won’t say anything." The butler was someone Quentin Blackwood trusted implicitly. None of the servants in Norhaven would gossip behind his back, much less spread rumors.

’That’s good.’ Ivy wasn’t worried about herself, but about dragging Quentin Blackwood into trouble.

"Uncle, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be heading back now."

It was already late. Ivy deliberately left the earrings behind for Quentin Blackwood.

"Follow me."

Quentin Blackwood said only two words before striding deeper into Norhaven.

Norhaven was built with a classical Eastern aesthetic, and it was unimaginably large.

Ivy Sherwood followed behind him, her heart pounding wildly. Flashes of their past encounters filled her mind. ’Could it be that Quentin Blackwood...’

Quentin Blackwood returned to his room, and Ivy Sherwood followed him inside.

"Close the door."

"I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s late, and we’d be a man and a woman alone together."

But one hard look from Quentin Blackwood sent Ivy scurrying to shut the door.

"Go wash your face," Quentin Blackwood commanded.

"Can’t I go back to my room to wash up?"

"What do you think?"

’Forget it. He knows everything anyway.’ Ivy simply walked over to the bathroom and started washing her face.

In the bathroom were makeup remover and a variety of cosmetics. Ivy Sherwood’s eyes landed on the dark foundation. It seemed these were the same products from last time—the ones Quentin Blackwood had obviously found.

She covered her face. ’And I thought I’d hidden my secret so well. He must have been laughing at me this whole time, watching me like I was some kind of clown.’

’I really have to thank him for playing along with my little act for so long.’

After using the remover to wipe off all her makeup, Ivy Sherwood cupped water in her hands and splashed it on her face. Soon, her rosy cheeks were revealed.

’I knew it! How could Uncle possibly be interested in the ugly version of me? So it seems he’s actually interested in this face?’

’But that can’t be right. Quentin Blackwood is surrounded by countless beauties. What kind of woman hasn’t he seen?’

’Besides, those first few times, including at the hotel, Quentin Blackwood shouldn’t have seen my real face yet.’

’Maybe it’s just physical compatibility. He probably thinks I’m a quiet, no-fuss bed partner, and that’s why he chose me.’

’After all, a man of Quentin Blackwood’s age, in his prime, has certain needs to be met.’

’So tonight, Uncle wants to... wants to...’

"Thinking about something?" a voice suddenly came from behind her.

Ivy Sherwood whipped her head around, only to see that the bathroom door had been opened at some point. ’Did Quentin Blackwood just hear my thoughts?’

"How would I know what you’re thinking," Ivy mumbled.

Quentin Blackwood strode right in. "I was asking what *you* were thinking about."

Ivy Sherwood: "..."

But as they spoke, Quentin Blackwood had already walked up behind her. He looked at her face, still beaded with water. Her thick lashes were wet, looking as if she were wearing mascara, fluttering like two small fans.

Her fair, delicate face was flushed, but it wasn’t a natural blush. It was the kind of blush that comes from thinking of something embarrassing, making your heart race and your cheeks burn.

And yet, Quentin Blackwood deliberately provoked her. "What’s this? Looking at you, could it be you were thinking about me?"

"I wasn’t thinking about anything."

"Not thinking about anything, yet you’ve been standing here this long?" Quentin Blackwood’s hand closed around her wrist from behind. Feeling her pulse, he said, "Your heart is beating so fast. That doesn’t sound like you weren’t thinking about anything."

His words made Ivy’s face flush even redder.

’A few X-rated thoughts had indeed flashed through my mind, but there was no way I would ever admit that in front of him.’

"Do you need to use the restroom, Uncle? I’ll get out of your way."

Ivy started to leave, but Quentin Blackwood pulled her back in one swift motion.

"Don’t move." He suddenly leaned closer and brushed aside the hair by her ear.

Quentin Blackwood’s lips were right next to her ear, his hot breath ghosting over her earlobe.

Ivy Sherwood didn’t dare to move a muscle. This was different from the closeness at the dining table. Then, it felt like he was deliberately teasing her. Now, his entire body was pressed against hers.

Ivy felt a slight touch on her ear, something cool against her skin. When she turned to look in the mirror, she saw the earrings dangling from her ear. Quentin Blackwood had put them on for her.

The long, tasseled earrings dangled down, stopping just short of her collarbones. Her neck was already tender and fair, and set against the backdrop of her thick hair, the red gems in their golden setting seemed to glow. They were breathtakingly beautiful.

’Last time, in the car, under the dim lights, he had only seen her wear one of them.’

’But now, with her true face revealed, the earrings were a perfect match. They looked as if they had been custom-made for her.’

’Beautiful. So beautiful she looked like a work of art.’

The moment Quentin Blackwood had seen these earrings, he had imagined how they would look on her. Seeing them on her now, she was even more beautiful than he had imagined.

Ivy reached up to touch them, but Quentin Blackwood’s warning tone sounded right by her ear: "Don’t you dare take them off!"