"Mabel Quinn." His voice suddenly sounded in the carriage, almost causing the pancake she was chewing to get stuck in her throat.
She looked up at him, only to see his eyes still closed, long lashes casting shadows on his eyelids. Underneath his straight nose, his thin lips opened and closed as he spoke, "Next ti, no matter what happens, you are not to hang up my call, understand?" His tone was mild, yet it carried an unusual presence in the silent car, making it impossible to ignore his words, as if they had impacted one's very insides.
It was as if his words were a royal decree that no one could disobey.
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At Kyle Kinston's residence, Kyle imdiately instructed the servant to take her for a bath and change out of the juice-stained clothes.
Mabel Quinn wanted to return to school first, but her protest was in vain, and she was directly ushered into a jacuzzi by the servants for a thorough wash.
Finally done with the bath, the clothes offered to her by the servant were all nightgowns. "Isn't there any formal wear?" she inquired.
"This is the President's instruction," the servant replied respectfully.
After putting on the nightgown, Mabel Quinn was once again brought before Kyle Kinston, who was dressed in a bathrobe, drying his hair with a large towel, evidently also freshly bathed.
"Co here," Kyle glanced up at her and said.
The problem was, she had no intention of going over! Mabel Quinn looked at the servant who had brought her in, but the servant exited the room without even glancing sideways.
"Co here, don't make say it a third ti!" Kyle's voice cooled slightly.
Taking a deep breath, Mabel Quinn reluctantly shuffled her feet forward.
Kyle tossed the towel in his hand to her, his thin lips uttering two words, "Dry it."
She took the towel, glaring at the person before her. At this mont, he was seated on the sofa with his head lowered, while she stood in front of him, looking down at him from a superior position.
This was her first ti viewing him from such an angle, and she felt an inexplicable sensation as if he needed to bow before her and she could command him!
God, how could she feel like this! Mabel quickly shook her head; how could anyone control a man as high and mighty as Kyle Kinston!
Suddenly, he lifted his head, his phoenix eyes gazing at her, "What's wrong?"
She shivered, her heart skipping a beat, "N-nothing!" In a fluster, she placed the towel over his head, inadvertently blocking his gaze.
As she wiped his hair, he surprisingly cooperated, allowing her fingers to maneuver through the towel, making Mabel feel as if she were drying off a freshly bathed puppy.
After a good while, she put down the towel, "All done."
"Blow my hair dry," he continued to command.
So she glanced around, spotted the hairdryer, and quickly grabbed it to start drying the president's hair.
Her fingers threaded through his hair, gently teasing it so the dryer's wind could thoroughly reach it.
Her fair fingers gently kneaded his scalp, causing Kyle Kinston's previously relaxed body to gradually tense.
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