My Bossy CEO Husband by Symon Diller

The waiter swiftly brought out the dishes, all pre-ordered by Lyndon.

Glancing at the dishes, Ayla frowned slightly.

Despite the place’s reputation for delicate dishes, what lay on the table seemed far from refined.

Chicken, duck, fish, oysters, mutton, leek- quite a variety, but lacking the expected finesse.

“Mr. Fernandez, your taste is quite unique,” she remarked, eyeing the unfamiliar soup on the table.

Lyndon explained, “I had a mishap a few months back, injured my waist. The doctor suggested a diet heavy on nutrients for recovery.”

injured? That was a big deal! The waist was a very important region to men. If it was hurt, their ability in bed

shifted slightly. “Is it serious?” she

too bad. It might affect my manhood for a while, but the doctor is optimistic-good food

mean he

s sexless

he would

face, she

up at her with a smile, continued

these dishes don’t suit your taste,

was the most he had said since they sat down, and a hint of joy seemed

injury on purpose? Is this

an appraising glance. She was