My One-month Marriage With Mr. Hawkins

Florence’s heart hammered as if it would jump out from her chest.

If she continued staying on his lap, she would be on fire.

She tried her best to tilt her head. “Excuse me, Mr. Hawkins. It’s quite late now. If you are not in a hurry, you can deal with those documents tomorrow.”

Then tomorrow it would be Timothy who helped him turn the pages.

Seeing through Florence’s mind, Ernest answered calmly, “They are all urgent.”

Florence was rendered speechless.

If he had so many urgent documents to deal with, why did he go to have the crayfish with her in the evening? They didn’t get full while it was a waste of time.

Florence felt angry but she dared not speak it out. She could only sit on Ernest’s lap and turn the pages for him after a certain estimated period.

However, she didn’t know that Ernest didn’t take a look at the document at all. His gaze was glued on her face, deep and affectionate.

Florence kept turning the pages for Ernest. Since the content was way too boring, shortly, she started dozing off, her head nodding.

“Bang.”

Her head suddenly fell toward the desk.

Ernest acted pretty quickly. He placed his thick palm on the desk and held her forehead.

Then, he held her waist and let her nestle in his arms.

Pressing her head on Ernest’s shoulder, Florence rubbed like a kitten. After finding a comfortable position, she continued to sleep.

Ernest stared at the woman in his arms, his eyes darkened.

How he wished that she could always stay in his arms so obediently...

He lowered his head, his thin lips pecked on her forehead. Then he carried her in his arms softly, walking to the big bed.

...

When Florence opened her eyes, she found a tough problem -- she was sleeping on Ernest’s bed again.

Her heart was tightened. Subconsciously, she looked aside.

It was empty beside her except for a pillow. She heaved a breath of relief. When she was about to get up, she touched the temperature left on the bed sheet beside her.

just got

were sleeping on the same bed again last

reaching out to

about last

Ernest was in a suit without

door frame, he said in a seductive tone, “How about I go back and sleep with

Not necessarily!”

not

at Ernest. Lifting the quilt,

find Ernest was standing in the

the

was confused. “What are you

for me,” Ernest uttered a

startled, looking at

up in a suit, you

the clothes with one hand. Have you seen anyone tie the necktie with only

was choked. “I’ve never tied a necktie for a man before. How would

answer pleased Ernest for some

head and put it on

said in a deep and

which seemingly set up a fire burning through her hand to her heart all the way on the

withdrew her hand in a

I’ll tie it

knew how to tie a necktie. After a long while, she finally helped Ernest tie it, although it was neither perfect nor

looked down to check his tie, a complicated dark

syllable, “You need to

why she needed to practice. Did he mean that she would tie it for him every

in her brain.

overthink,

stay with Ernest every second and

his lips curled up into a determined

he strode

floor, Florence wanted to leave directly. However, she saw the dishes in the dining room not far away and there

hand was injured? How could he prepare the

as if he had realized what Florence was

to pull her small hand. “Let’s

“... Okay.”

pulled her hand

recently -- he always