Emma Johnson stood frozen, speechless.
Before she could react, the world spun around her. Liam Williams had scooped her up effortlessly, her light frame no burden at all.
"Ah—what are you doing?!" she yelped.
"Giving you what you want," he replied, his voice dripping with shameless intent. "We still need to complete our third plan..."
"Liam, I surrender! Put me down first! How about... I give you a bath instead?" At this moment, what better option could there be?
The moment Liam heard exactly what he'd been waiting for, the dark cloud over his face vanished. He carried her straight into the bathroom without another word.
His long fingers pressed the switch, and water began filling the tub. When Emma remained frozen in place, Liam shot her a look and whistled, his expression pure mischief.
"What?" Emma looked up, her voice sharp.
"Undress me. Or did you think I brought you in here just to watch me bathe?" Liam's tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.
Emma's mouth went dry.
Even though every fiber of her being resisted, she had no choice. It wasn't like she hadn't seen his body before...
She stepped forward, forcing calmness as she reached for his black suit jacket.
Then his shirt.
Emma barely reached Liam's chest. She was more than a head shorter than him, and barefoot on top of that.
Standing face to face like this, all she could see was his muscular chest and that dangerously sexy Adam's apple.
Sure, they'd had plenty of physical contact before. But that had always been under duress—she never had time to react, let alone look closely.
Now she was supposed to wash him?
Through the white fabric, she could make out the outline of his chest muscles. Swallowing hard, Emma slowly raised her hands to untie his dark blue tie. That part wasn't hard—she used to tie her father's ties all the time.
But the buttons...
Pretending to be calm, she started working on the third button. Her fingers accidentally brushed against his skin. Maybe it was nerves, but the button seemed to fight her, refusing to budge.
Sweat beaded on her palms. Liam didn't help—he just stood there, letting her struggle.
Emma glanced awkwardly at his unreadable face and forced an ugly smile. "It's... it's fine. My hands are just a little shaky."
She wiped her palms on her pajamas, bit her lip, and quickly undid the rest of the buttons.
When the shirt fell away, Liam's body was on full display. His wheat-colored skin gleamed under the light, scars crisscrossing his torso—deep and shallow marks that only made him look more masculine.
His strong arms, his long fingers... Emma's gaze dropped to his abs. Six perfect, defined muscles.
This was the first time she'd ever seen such a powerful man up close!
The sheer force of his presence pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. She stepped back instinctively, swallowing hard, completely at a loss.
Her face burned red, her clear eyes filled with embarrassment and shyness.
Liam watched her retreat and almost laughed. Was he really that terrifying?
Just taking off his shirt scared her this much?
"You're not planning to let me bathe like this, are you, wife?" he teased, mischief written all over his face.
"Ah... Liam, you're not asking me to take off your pants too, are you?" Emma felt like her face was on fire. It was so hot she could fry an egg on it.
She glanced down at him. Was he serious?
"Of course. What else? Hurry up, or I won't let you off easy later."
If she dared to disobey him now, he fully intended to make her pay. They were married now—they could do whatever they wanted.
His domineering attitude only made Emma more nervous. What could she do?
If she refused, he was capable of anything.
For Emma, it felt like standing between a blazing fire and a bottomless abyss. No way forward, no way back.
Gritting her teeth, she stepped forward. She crouched in front of him and reached for his belt. But she couldn't bring herself to look directly at him, so she turned her head away, fumbling blindly at his waist.
Her fingers found the belt, but she had no idea what to do next. Frustrated and anxious, she tugged and pulled, but it wouldn't come undone.
Liam hadn't expected this. Her touch sent a jolt through him. Even though she hadn't touched anything inappropriate...
He could feel her soft fingers brushing against his abdomen. An involuntary heat surged through his body.
Frowning, he looked down at Emma, then reached down and unbuckled his belt himself, letting his pants fall.
Emma caught the movement from the corner of her eye and immediately pulled her hands back, turning away.
This man was truly... shameless.
Doing something so dirty right in front of her.
Just as she stood there, nervous and helpless, Liam's cold voice cut through the air. "What are you standing there for? Come here..."
"But... you're not dressed. I can't look..." Emma stammered, her voice trembling.
"I give you permission. You can look." Liam didn't seem to mind at all. He was surprisingly generous.
That's not what she meant. She just didn't dare to look!
Emma forced an awkward laugh. "Um... how about you wash yourself, and I'll wait outside the door for you..."
"I'll count to three. If you don't come, you'll face the consequences. One... two..."
Just as he was about to say the next number, Emma turned around. He was already in the bathtub.
She finally let out a sigh of relief. That was close.
Otherwise, she would have been scared to death.
"Stop stalling. Are you trying to test my patience?" Liam threw a towel at her face. "Come wipe my back."