Chapter 9: Chapter 9: Face Pressed Against His Lower Abdomen, Hugging His Waist
Silas Blackwood opened the door to the room, only to see the man sitting on the bed.
"Get out!" Quentin Blackwood’s voice was low and cold. The fury on his face froze Silas Blackwood in the doorway, making him afraid to move a muscle. It felt as if a hand were clamped tightly around his throat, making it hard to breathe.
"Didn’t you understand me? Is this how Caleb Blackwood taught his son?" Quentin Blackwood’s gaze was sharp, exuding an invisible aura of intimidation.
"I just heard from a maid that Ivy Sherwood went into the wrong room. I was worried she might have unknowingly disturbed you, Uncle, so I came to look for her."
Silas had been kneeling for so long that his knees were still aching. His sister had said she was certain Ivy had come in here, and she’d even had someone watching—Ivy had absolutely not come out.
He had to find Ivy. That way, even if his uncle decided to come after him, he would first have to explain why he’d been in the same room as Silas’s fiancée for so long.
"Are you sure you’re here to find someone, and not to start trouble?" Quentin’s severe features looked all the more ruthless under the light.
"Of course. I have no intention of offending you, Uncle."
Seeing how dead set Silas was on Ivy being here, Quentin Blackwood pretty much understood. Ivy probably hadn’t come in on purpose; she had indeed been set up.
"Get out now, and I’ll let it go."
"Are you trying to cover for Ivy Sherwood, Uncle? Or is there some kind of unspeakable secret between the two of you?" The more Silas thought about it, the more convinced he became that Ivy had to be in this room. Why else wouldn’t his uncle let him in?
"And what if she’s not here?"
"Then I’ll kowtow and beg for your forgiveness, Uncle." Silas made his bold declaration.
"Only to me? By doing this, you’re offending Ivy Sherwood too, aren’t you? Won’t you kowtow and apologize to her as well?"
Silas gritted his teeth. He was sure he could find her anyway. "Then I’ll apologize to Ivy Sherwood too!"
"Fine. Go ahead and look."
Under the covers, Ivy heard their conversation crystal clear.
A warmth spread through Ivy’s chest. She could hardly believe it. ’Was what Quentin Blackwood just said... was he helping me?’
She was pressed tightly against Quentin, not daring to move a muscle, terrified that Silas would notice something was amiss.
Everything had happened so suddenly. Although this was the second floor, the ceilings were so high that it was equivalent to the third or fourth story of a normal building. Jumping out the window was impossible; she didn’t want to be crippled from the fall.
And if she hid in the bathroom or the closet, Silas would definitely look there.
There was nowhere else to hide. The only relatively safe place was under the covers. As long as she stayed pressed against Quentin, it wouldn’t be obvious there was another person there. And she was betting that Silas wouldn’t dare to pull back Quentin’s blanket.
She couldn’t see anything under the covers, which magnified all her other senses. She listened to Silas’s footsteps as he came in, heard him go to the bathroom first, and then open the closet on the other side of the room.
All she could do was press herself against Quentin as hard as she could, almost holding her breath.
Ivy’s head was now pressed against Quentin’s thigh, and she could even feel the strength of the muscle beneath.
Having just showered, Quentin carried the scent of body wash, mingled with his natural cold fir fragrance. It was surprisingly pleasant. Ivy even had a spare moment to wonder if she should develop a cedar and fir perfume.
Silas seemed to have searched the entire room without finding anyone. His footsteps drew near again.
"Ready to get out now?" Quentin’s cool voice rang out.
Having found no one, Silas was starting to panic. ’This is impossible,’ he thought. ’I trust my sister.’
He looked at Quentin’s bed. ’Could Ivy be hiding under the covers?’ The blanket did seem a bit bulky. Although Quentin was a big man and would naturally take up a lot of space, the complete lack of movement was strange no matter how you looked at it.
"Uncle, would you mind if I took a look under your blanket?"
In an instant, Ivy didn’t even dare to breathe.
Out of nervousness, her hand shot out and grabbed Quentin’s waist.
A man’s waist is a sensitive area. Moreover, Ivy’s face was pressed against his lower abdomen. Her hot breath under the covers, along with her scorching body heat, was transmitted directly to Quentin’s waist. He felt a jolt as if from an electric shock and couldn’t help but let out a muffled groan.
A fire seemed to race through his entire body, and a certain part of him quietly stirred to life.
His self-control had always been strong. He was usually busy with work and rarely even took matters into his own hands, let alone touched a woman. He had never felt this way about a woman before.
Ivy was the first. It had been the same way last night, the drunken woman clinging to his waist and refusing to let go.
Besides, he’d been with Ivy several times just last night. Logically, he shouldn’t be feeling aroused this quickly again.
But the woman, seemingly oblivious, only held onto his waist even tighter.
"You want to see what’s under my blanket? Do you have a death wish?" he asked, his voice low and icy, his expression devoid of emotion.
The more Quentin refused to let him look, the more certain Silas was that something was wrong. "If Ivy isn’t there, then why won’t you just pull back the blanket and let me see, Uncle?"
Under the blanket, Ivy thought that Silas must have been spoiled absolutely rotten. Silas had now thoroughly offended a man his own father wouldn’t dare to cross.
"What makes you think Ivy would be in my bed? A woman you yourself look down on—you think I’d be interested in her?"
’How could he be so insulting?’ Ivy pinched Quentin’s waist, though she didn’t dare to use too much force.
To Quentin, the tiny amount of force felt like the scratch of a kitten—not painful, but sending a tingling, numbing sensation through him.
Quentin reached out and grabbed Ivy’s hand, stopping her from causing any more trouble.
’If Ivy keeps touching me like this, I can’t guarantee what might happen next!’
Ivy’s hand was suddenly seized. She tried to pull it back, but Quentin’s grip was too strong; she couldn’t break free at all.
Afraid of making too much noise and being discovered by Silas, Ivy didn’t dare to move, forced to let Quentin hold her hand.
There was still some slight movement under the covers, but Silas didn’t notice. He was still mulling over Quentin’s words, thinking they made sense.
’Who was his uncle? In The Veridian Circle, he was a man who could move heaven and earth, a man of immense power and authority. How could he possibly be interested in an ugly woman like Ivy?’
But Silas still felt it was possible that Ivy was right there under the blanket.
"Uncle, I just want a quick look. It’s no loss to you. If Ivy really isn’t here, I’ll leave immediately."
"Silas Blackwood, who gave you the right to say such a thing?"
"I..." Before Silas could even speak, Quentin cut him off with a single word.
"Out!" A bone-chilling glint appeared in his frigid eyes. It was obvious Quentin was about to lose his temper.
The commotion was loud enough for Caleb Blackwood to hear downstairs.
Caleb Blackwood had gone to great lengths to convince Quentin to stay. This living deity was someone he wished he could just put on a pedestal and worship.
"What’s going on?" Caleb came upstairs to see his good-for-nothing son in Quentin’s room.
"What are you doing here? Don’t you know your uncle needs to rest? Get out of here right now!" Caleb could tell at a glance that his son had provoked someone he shouldn’t have.
Quentin was not someone he could afford to offend!
Caleb was seemingly scolding him, but he was actually trying to save Silas. He wanted to get his son out first, then try to placate Quentin.
"Wait." The man’s expression was as still and cold as stagnant water.
A bone-piercing chill made Silas’s body tremble. Then, he heard Quentin speak: "Kneel."
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