Roman and Julienne's heart desire-Chapter 185: End Of The Storm: I will Always Take Care Of You

Chapter 185: End Of The Storm: I will Always Take Care Of You

"So... let me," Roman murmured, his voice low enough to blend with the soft hum of the morning air.

Julie lifted her head just slightly, her wide eyes peeking up at him as if unsure whether she heard him right.

Roman’s lips curved in a slow, warm smile — the type of smile that softened every sharp edge on his face.

"Let me bathe you," he repeated, gentler this time.

Julie’s reaction was instant. A small gasp rose from her throat before she quickly hid her face in the crook of his neck, her cheeks burning against his skin.

Her fingers curled lightly at his shoulders, unsure whether to push him away or hold onto him for balance.

"I’ll take that as a yes," Roman whispered, amusement dancing in his voice.

Before she could protest or even breathe properly, he slid one arm under her knees and the other beneath her back, lifting her effortlessly into a bridal carry.

Julie’s fingers clutched the back of his neck as the warm air shifted around them with each of his steps.

He carried her toward the restroom, the soft light filtering in from the hallway casting a faint golden glow across his bare shoulders.

"Sit here a moment," Roman said as he gently lowered her onto the wide marble seat near the tub.

Julie adjusted herself quickly, pulling her knees close, her hair spilling around her shoulders like soft waves of dark silk.

She tried to keep her breathing steady, but even the air felt too warm against her skin under his gaze.

Roman turned toward the luxurious bathtub, reaching for the faucet—

Then he stopped.

His steps halted mid-stride.

His body stiffened slightly.

And slowly... he turned back toward her.

His brow lifted, a questioning expression crossing his face.

"Did you take me to my room yesterday?" Roman asked, his tone direct, almost suspiciously calm.

Julie blinked rapidly, remembering how she had awkwardly dressed herself and somehow dragged his heavy, unconscious body from the other room.

Her face flushed at the memory.

"Yes... I did," she said, nodding once.

Roman stared at her a little longer, his eyes narrowing playfully before he resumed walking to the bathtub.

"Why?" he asked as he turned on the faucet. Warm water rushed out, the echo filling the tiled room.

The sound alone made Julie’s stomach twist with a nervous flutter.

"I-I... it j-just..." she stammered, her voice trembling like she was standing in cold rain instead of a warm bathroom.

But the words died at her lips.

The embarrassment weighed heavier than her courage.

She lowered her gaze, her eyelashes trembling as she stared at the floor instead of meeting his eyes.

Her fingers twisted into each other in her lap, knuckles turning faintly white.

Roman didn’t miss any of it.

He turned slightly, the warm steam rising behind him as the water level slowly climbed in the tub.

With a soft exhale, he looked straight at her—

Her lowered head.

Her flushed ears.

Her body drawn small with shyness.

"Julie," he said softly.

Her shoulders tensed.

"Lift your eyes, love."

Julie shook her head weakly, her face tilting farther downward. "B-because... you’re not wearing anything..." she whispered, voice so small it almost dissolved in the sound of the running water.

Roman hummed, the sound deep, low, and strangely amused. He turned back to check the water, letting the warm steam brush over his skin.

He adjusted the second knob, allowing colder water to flow in and soften the heat.

"So what?" he finally said, walking toward her with unhurried steps.

Her breath hitched as he approached.

Roman stopped right beside her and slowly lowered himself to sit on the ledge near her.

The faint warmth radiating from his skin drifted toward her, surrounding her even without him touching her.

"I’m all yours," he said softly, taking her hand into his much larger one.

Julie froze—completely.

Roman squeezed her fingers gently, grounding her trembling.

"So lift your eyes," he murmured. "I looked at you too. Why shouldn’t you look at me? It’s only fair... isn’t it?"

His words sank into her like warm water seeping into cold skin.

Julie finally lifted her gaze—slowly, hesitantly—meeting his eyes first.

Only his eyes.

Not anywhere else.

A whole minute passed.

Roman’s lips twitched. "Are you just going to look at my face, love?"

Julie blinked, startled. "Huh?"

He leaned closer, his breath brushing her cheek.

"I’m your man," Roman said, his voice a husky whisper that vibrated through the air between them.

"And I want you to look at me. To memorize every angle of me. Explore me, Mrs. Roman Thompson."

Julie immediately looked away in flustered shock, but Roman gently cupped her cheeks with both hands, guiding her back.

His thumbs stroked the sides of her face with slow, tender motions.

The air thickened with warmth, care, and the quiet intimacy that only came after trust had been formed.

Roman’s fingers tightened gently on Julie’s cheeks, his thumbs tracing slow, warm lines along her skin.

He held her gaze like someone afraid she might slip away if he blinked.

The faucet’s gentle gurgle echoed softly from the tub behind them, but for the moment, that sound faded into the background of his heartbeat.

"I mean it," Roman said in a low, tender voice. "I want you to look at me. Really look." His eyes searched hers like a man relearning something precious.

Julie’s chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths.

She lowered her lashes, then lifted them again, her large brown eyes flicking over Roman’s face as though mapping the contours of a landscape she’d only ever seen in her dreams.

His lips curved into a small, soft smile—equal parts reassurance and something deeper, more desperate.

"I want you to remember me," he whispered, "when you close your eyes later. Every line of my face, the way my mouth turns when I smile... I want you to explore all of me in your mind."

A faint warmth glowed in her cheeks, and her fingers, still held in his, began to relax.

The tension she’d carried melted slowly, like morning frost beneath soft sunlight.

Roman leaned slightly closer, his breath brushing her forehead.

Steam from the tub curled around them, softening the edges of the room, filling the space with quiet warmth.

He inhaled the scent of soap and warmth and her skin, and for a moment, everything else dissolved.

"I promise," he said, voice steady. "When all this is done... I’ll make sure you always see me. All of me."

She blinked, swallowing hard. Her lips trembled, her throat tight.

She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing — letting her fingers tighten around his hand instead.

Roman’s expression softened. He brushed a strand of her hair back, tucking it behind her ear.

"Let me care for you now," he murmured. "Let me wash away last night’s pain. And after... I’ll hold you, just like this."

Julie’s breath caught at the promise in his voice. The way he said "care for you" held more meaning than any declaration of love.

There was regret, tenderness, and something fierce buried beneath his softness.

Her eyelashes flickered as she nodded faintly.

Her lips parted slightly, as though she was about to speak — then closed again, unsure.

Roman stood up gracefully and reached for a soft, plush towel folded neatly nearby.

He dipped his hand into the water, letting warmth and steam swirl around his fingers, and then gently lifted Julie’s foot, placing it into the bathtub’s warm pool.

The surface rippled softly, sending shivers of water up the sides of the tub.

His other hand guided her hips gently so that she could sit on the edge, knees drawn close to her chest.

The steam enveloped them in a comforting haze. Roman knelt beside her, the tile cool beneath his knees, and leaned over just enough to be close.

He reached for a soft sponge and dipped it into the water, gathering a small pool of warm suds.

He lifted the sponge to her skin, brushing it lightly over her thigh, each stroke deliberate, slow, like an apology and a prayer intertwined.

Julie tensed when the first bubbles touched her, but his touch was so gentle, so careful, that her muscles soon relaxed, allowing herself to lean into him a little.

The scent of soap rose softly — a clean, floral perfume mingled with something familiar, intimate.

With each brush of the sponge, her body seemed to uncoil just a fraction.

She closed her eyes, letting him work in silence, the only sounds between them: the water sloshing, the sponge gliding, their breathing softly mingling.

Roman edged the sponge upward, toward her hip and stomach, carefully avoiding any place that would hurt.

His fingers followed, pressing in light trails at her skin, mapping each elegant curve, each tender line.

He paused at her waist, closing his eyes briefly as though memorizing every detail.

Again he spoke, softly, as though telling a secret: "You’re so beautiful, Julie. My heart... my heart breaks knowing I made you feel pain." His voice cracked a little, but he steadied it quickly.

Julie shifted, placing a trembling hand over his. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him through the misty haze.

Her lips quivered as she whispered his name: "Roman..."

He paused, sponge in hand, and their gazes locked — soft, unguarded, honest. In that moment, everything felt raw and real: their love, their regret, their hope.

Roman lowered the sponge and leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. "Let me be better for you," he promised, his breath warm against her skin. "I will always take care of you — in every way I can."

Julie closed her eyes, resting her cheek against his own.

The warmth of the water, Roman’s gentle presence, and the lingering scent of soap wrapped around her like a hug.

She let out a shaky breath, soft enough only he could hear.

In the quiet swirl of steam and soft water, they found a sacred space — just them, together, healing.