Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 89: His Deep and Fiery Love, Echoing with Every Step

Chapter 89: Chapter 89: His Deep and Fiery Love, Echoing with Every Step

Claire felt her whole body heat up.

In the sizzling hot atmosphere, she heard the clear sound of bells.

Her ankle suddenly felt a cool touch, and Claire opened her hazy eyes to look.

The angle was exceedingly sensuous.

Her leg was lifted, and Ethan Blackwood was kneeling between her legs on one knee.

He bowed his head, his long, thick lashes covered the expression in his eyes, showing only his tightly pursed lips that appeared somewhat indifferent.

As her gaze moved down, that distinctly jointed hand was putting an ankle bracelet on her.

Claire was stunned at first glance.

It was an ankle bracelet made of seven carved lotus flowers from glass-like jade, entirely crystal clear without a hint of cotton or impurities.

This was the highest quality jade. If it were a complete jade bracelet with such quality, it would be worth at least eight figures.

The jade lotus was carved so lifelike, with several small bells embedded that added a touch of lively charm to its elegance.

It fell naturally onto her fair skin, radiant and bright.

"Is this the gift you mentioned?" Claire bit her lip, "It’s too precious, I..."

Before she could finish, Ethan’s lips had already pressed down.

As Claire’s calf moved, his breath fell onto her lips, warm and tingling.

"Keep it." His voice wasn’t loud, but his attitude carried an undeniable assertiveness, "Do you know why I gave you an ankle bracelet?"

Images of past nights where her legs wrapped around the man’s waist appeared in Claire’s mind.

It must be for such things.

Feeling guilty, she turned away, not wanting to fall into his trap, "I don’t know."

Seeing her mood soften a lot, the man finally relaxed, "Then think about it properly."

His large hand fell onto her damp hair top, "Be good. Go take a hot shower."

Claire finally recovered and noticed that the man had stripped off her wet clothes.

Even though he had long seen everything, she still used his coat to cover her body first.

"I-I can wash myself."

"Go ahead."

Ethan followed her, watching as the girl’s slender arm slipped into his sleeves.

His tailored coat for his body made Claire look like a daughter wearing her father’s clothes.

The hem of the coat barely reached her thighs, exposing the girl’s long, white legs.

She walked barefoot on the floor, moving slowly due to the pain in her sole.

The sound of the bells on her ankle echoed crisply in the quiet room as she moved.

With each step, a sound.

With each step, a thought.

Suddenly, Claire realized the intention behind this gift.

In an instant, her face turned red, and she quickly rushed into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Warm water poured down, Claire sat on the ground, carefully examining the exquisite ankle bracelet.

The lotus was realistically carved, carrying an unstained purity emerging from the mud.

In the light, it was translucent and bright, with a faint purplish glow, appearing extraordinarily beautiful and noble,

Her fingers gently brushed over it, still feeling its smooth touch.

Whether it was the craftsmanship or the bracelet’s symbolism, Claire liked it a lot.

In the past, Owen tried to gift her items, mostly luxury products, monotonous with no real meaning.

She didn’t like them and didn’t accept them.

But the first gift Ethan gave her was one Claire wanted to accept.

It wasn’t because the chain’s material was rare, but because the design was just too beautiful.

As a designer and a mineral paint artist dealing long-term with stones, she’d seen jade before, but such scarce material rivaled the finest pigments, a fascination for any woman.

She recalled Wyatt’s words.

Accepting a gift meant a subtle shift in their relationship, one step closer to agreeing to date him.

If they became a couple, the next step would lead toward marriage.

Claire, back then, was coaxed into a careless agreement by his words, finding herself conflicted now.

If she someday agreed to date Ethan, would he really not mind that she was once nearly forced?

Claire bit her lip, with too much on her mind.

After dawdling for a long time, she opened the door to find a tall man standing there.

He hadn’t had time to hide the worry in his eyes, presumably fearing something might happen to her?

Just for a shower, what could happen?

Claire didn’t realize Ethan was worried about her unstable emotions, fearing she might do something rash like committing suicide in the bathroom, a possible scenario.

"Done showering?"

Claire met his deep gaze, thinking of the bracelet on her foot, her heart felt weighed down like a stone.

"Hmm... Ah..."

Before she could finish agonizing, her feet left the ground as the man lifted her.

Claire had to cling to Ethan’s neck, grumbling, "What are you doing?"

The man swiftly carried her to the sofa, "Didn’t your foot get hurt? I’ll carry you so it won’t hurt."

Before Claire could argue, a bowl of brown broth was at her lips, ginger aroma rushing to her nose.

"Drink some ginger soup to warm up, or you’ll get sick."

Claire felt a bit nauseated, "I don’t want it."

For bitter melon, ginger, Claire detested such ingredients since childhood, an expression of Miranda’s controlling nature in her eating habits

Seeing Claire pick out the ginger, Miranda would raise a brow, insisting it was beneficial and had to be eaten.

Claire’s refusal led to the cook finely dicing ginger, evenly spreading it in every dish, making it impossible for her to pick out.

She did so to establish authority, intimidating Claire into compliance.

Unbeknownst to Miranda, the more ginger Claire ate, the more repelled she became, making it her most hated ingredient, frowning upon its scent.

Ethan noticed her dislike and patiently coaxed, "I added rose sugar, it won’t taste so bad, try it?"

"No, I hate it!" She bluntly expressed her distaste like a picky little princess.

"Even if I catch a cold or fever, I absolutely won’t drink this damned ging... mmm..."

Before she could finish her spirited refusal, Ethan took a mouthful, pressing his lips onto Claire’s soft red lips.

Claire’s eyes widened in protest, her hands pushing against his chest.

But Ethan ignored her resistance, transforming into a relentless feeding machine.

"Ethan Blackwood, you’re a jerk, you..."

Before Claire could finish her complaint, she was kissed again.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, swaying back and forth.

The bell on her foot sounded.

With each step, a sound.

With each step, a reverberation...