The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 586

"Go take a shower before bed."

A shower?

Just those words alone made Gwyneth's cheeks flush hot. Before she could answer, Hawthorne had already scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her straight to the bathroom. He set her down gently, making sure everything she might need-towel, slippers, and a robe-were neatly arranged for her.

"There are pajamas in the wardrobe. I'll grab a set for you," he said, closing the door quietly behind him. The suite fell into a stillness.

Blushing furiously, Gwyneth turned on the shower. Her heart was pounding so loud she could hardly hear the water.

After showering, she found pajamas waiting just outside the door. She changed at record speed, then peeked into the bedroom. Hawthorne was already in bed, reading a financial magazine, flipping through the pages with his long fingers.

At some point, he'd put on a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, and the way the lamp lit up his sharp profile was almost unfairly attractive.

Gwyneth froze for a moment, then obediently walked over.

calm as ever. He set aside

not quite sure what to do, but eventually slipped under

darkness. As her eyes adjusted, Gwyneth felt

smelled faintly of soap and something uniquely him-clean, warm,

sleep," he

further moves, just

his scent and the subtle strength of his embrace, she had no idea what she was supposed

to exhaustion, and eventually, she drifted off, her nerves soothed

were gone, replaced by a dream where someone held her

dawn to the sound of birds singing outside the window, only to find herself face-to-face with Hawthorne's striking features. Startled, she

him. Thankfully, Hawthorne still had his arm around her, or

lashes fluttering against his cheek. Even asleep his lips were set in a firma, tempting line-she realized, with a jolt, that men could be just as dangerously beautiful as

she tried to turn over, but her knee bumped into something she really shouldn't have. Hawthorne's brow furrowed in pain, and