âYouâre neither embarrassing nor melodramatic. Iâm grateful youâre speaking from your heart, Damien assured Cherise, his hand tenderly stroking her head. âRegardless if youâve regained your memories, youâll always be my beloved Cherise. Her personality her endearing quirks, and her reliance on him remained unchanged.
âHowever,â Damien continued, lifting her chin to meet his gaze, âIf you want me to commit to sleeping beside you every night in the future, it comes with a condition. You must agree to my condition before I agree to yours.â
Cheriseâs heart clenched. âWhat is it?â she inquired anxiously.
With a gentle smile, Damien retrieved the razor from the sink and offered it to Cherise. This,â he replied cryptically.
Cherise was dumbstruck, her eyes widening in surprise. âWhy donât you do this yourselfâ¦â she mumbled incredulously. She scrutinized the razor in her hand, her hesitation palpable as she pressed her lips together. Despite her former proficiency as a surgeon, the notion of wielding the razor on Damienâs face filled her with trepidation. He was Lenoir Groupâs president and a prominent figure in Adania.
The possibility of accidentally causing him harm and resulting in a scar that would mar his dignity loomed large in her mind. And the thought of the embarrassment that would ensue if it known that his wife had inflicted such an injury while shaving him⦠It was unthinkable, me With these apprehensions swirling in her thoughts, the razor felt like a red-hot coal in her hand. Cherise hastily threw the razor to the sink.
Moments later, the razor found its way back into Cheriseâs grasp. Damienâs dark, unwavering eyes bore into her, making it impossible for her to refuse. âMrs. Lenoir, are you declining such a simple request.
from me?â his voice, firm and unyielding, left no room for negotiation.
Under Damienâs unwavering gaze, Cherise reluctantly retrieved the razor. âDonât blame me if I accidentally nick you,â she warned.
Damien simply smiled and nodded in response. âGo ahead.â
âYou canât blame me!â Cherise took a deep breath, her brow furrowing in concentration. With hi being significantly taller than her, shaving him would require her to tilt her head back, a prospec found exhausting. She pouted, then suddenly brightened as an idea struck her. âCome here.â
Damien watched with amusement as the petite woman fetched a small stool and climbed onto it wh holding the razor. His lips curled up at the sight. He obediently moved closer, reaching out to grab he slender waist, mindful of keeping her steady. This time, she stood a few inches taller than him.
Cherise felt her cheeks flush as she instructed, âLook up.â
âYes, maâam,â Damien replied with a faint smile, tilting his head back as requested. âPlease be gentle with me, Mrs. Lenoir.â
Cherise pursed her lips, switched on the electric razor, and was about to carefully shave his stubble.
Worried I might accidentally nick you?â
âIâm not concerned about that. Since Iâm so shameless, I have thick skin,â Damien joked. âBut Iâm more worried about you hurting yourself.â
Cherise continued shaving, keeping a steady grip on the electric shaver. She smiled, playfully adding, âI donât think youâre shameless.â She inwardly felt she was the shameless one, having been the one to initiate the argument and now being the first to make amends. She had been the one to regard him as an adversary initially, yet she was now the one requesting his presence in bed. Cherise couldnât help but feel somewhat indecisive, shameless, and melodramatic.
The man offered a faint smile. In your presence, Iâll always be shameless.â
Cheriseâs face flushed a crimson red. She gently patted him. âStop making me laugh, Iâm going to start now.
The man nodded, his expression serious as Cherise started shaving his stubble.