After Betrayal: Lightning Marriage to Mr. Enigmatic-Chapter 816: Young Master, My Leg Went Numb Under You

"Impossible!"

Isabella Weaver had no idea what on earth he was worried about. How could he be old? He was undeniably in the prime of his life, so handsome it was absurd. If she didn’t see him for a day, she’d be drowning in longing.

"Will you still like me when I’m old?"

"I will!"

Isabella answered without hesitation. Even if he were old, he’d be a charming old man.

Just like Ben Hunter, even in his seventies, he still stood straight. In a suit, he exuded a powerful aura, and even if his appearance had aged, you could still catch a glimpse of his dashing looks from his youth.

Harry Hunter was pleased with her straightforward response, brushing his fingers over her delicate skin as he softly said, "I’ll try to age slower. You’re so much younger than me, it gives me a sense of crisis."

Isabella suddenly hugged him, speaking with utmost sincerity: "We’re only seven years apart. I’ve never thought that’s a big age gap. You don’t have to work out so hard; you’re great just the way you are. I really like it."

She felt a slight ache in her heart. He cared about her so much, to the point where he feared aging.

This proud and aloof man actually had moments of vulnerability.

She couldn’t bear to see him humble himself; she only hoped he would always remain proud and dignified, like a carefree young master.

Harry’s gaze was tender, but he didn’t embrace Isabella back: "I’m all sweaty; let go of me first so I can shower."

"I won’t let go!"

Isabella wobbled as she hugged his waist: "You hold me."

Harry, helpless, had to hold her: "You don’t mind me being dirty?"

"How are you dirty? I think you smell quite nice."

"Hmm, true love really is not smelling the other person’s odor."

Isabella was unhappy: "There’s no smell in the first place. You bathe every day, even more frequently than I do."

Harry picked her up horizontally and strode towards the bathroom: "We’ll shower together today."

...

Isabella woke up late the next day, not just because she stayed up late drawing, but also because someone had worn her out.

When she woke up, Harry’s arm was still around her waist, his long leg draped over hers, enveloping her entirely in his embrace.

She loved his possessiveness—if only her leg wasn’t numb.

She tried to pull her leg away, but as soon as she made a slight move, she woke up Harry.

In his haze, he tightened his embrace and pressed her down more firmly: "Where are you going?"

Isabella tugged at his ear: "Young Master, my leg’s numb from being pressed by you. Could you allow me to move a bit?"

Harry, feeling the pain, opened his eyes immediately: "My fault, let me massage it for you."

His long leg finally moved away, and he placed his big hand over it, earnestly massaging: "Is that better?"

He was strong, and his squeezing left her thigh feeling both sore and numb, causing Isabella to grit her teeth: "Ouch!"

Harry immediately lightened his touch, waited for the numbness to subside, then pinched her delicate nose and teased her with a smile: "Delicate little thing, I was only using a third of my strength and you already said it hurts."

Isabella snuggled up in his arms with her eyes closed, her leg resting on his, muttering discontentedly: "It’s obviously just because you’re too strong. You nearly crushed my bones. Your first massage failed—deducted money."

Harry let her press against him, speaking indulgently: "Hmm, deduct the money. The money in my account is all yours; take it all."

"Can’t take it all, have to leave some for you. In case you’re interested in some pretty lady outside, you’ll still have something to buy her a gift."

Harry could hardly believe his ears, asking in disbelief: "Since when were you so generous?"