Nia Mitchell shot up in bed, her hand flying to her small nose.
"Mmph..."
Maxwell Peary imdiately stopped dressing. He picked up a tissue from the bedside, handed it to her, and then effortlessly lifted her from the bed, carrying her toward the bathroom.
"You talk tough, but just look at how honest your body is."
He picked her up, sat her on the washstand, and took a damp towel to wipe her small nose, all the while gently patting her smooth forehead with his wet palm.
"I just have a cold and I’m running a bit hot."
Nia Mitchell defended herself stubbornly while wiping the water trickling down from her forehead.
"Oh, please."
Maxwell Peary lightly tapped her on the forehead.
"You’re hopeless."
He couldn’t resist poking her forehead. Getting a nosebleed just from looking at her own husband.
The main point was, why hadn’t he ever seen her get a nosebleed before?
"I..."
Nia Mitchell pouted in embarrassnt, swatting Maxwell Peary’s hand away as she sat on the washstand, her legs dangling and swinging.
Her nosebleed had stopped. Maxwell Peary took a clean towel and carefully wiped her nose, which was still stained with a trace of blood.
Sitting on the washstand, Nia Mitchell was now at the sa height as Maxwell Peary. She grinned and mimicked his action, tapping his forehead.
"Uncle, I’m as tall as you now."
Maxwell Peary was over six feet tall—she’d never asked his exact height. She always had to tilt her head up to speak to him, but today, they were finally eye to eye.
"Does Mrs. Peary want to grow taller?"
Maxwell Peary seed to particularly enjoy calling her Mrs. Peary today. Nia Mitchell nodded with a smile.
Of course, she wanted to grow taller. Especially since the CEO was so tall, she always felt like a child standing next to him.
Maxwell Peary reached out and patted her hair. She’s already twenty, is she still expecting to grow taller?
Suddenly, he swept her up, his hands supporting her small bottom.
Nia Mitchell was instantly higher than Maxwell Peary and quickly wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Ah! What are you doing!"
Nia Mitchell exclaid, instantly flustered.
"Lifting you high."
Saying this, he actually placed his hands under her armpits and, with a sudden exertion of strength, lifted her straight up.
"Ah! Maxwell Peary, let go!"
’Lifting high’? What ’lifting high’? To hell with it!
She wasn’t a child! And besides, where did this CEO get so much strength from?
"What did you call ?"
Maxwell Peary stopped moving but kept her suspended in the air.
Nia Mitchell was left suspended in mid-air, her small feet dangling, a woeful expression on her face.
"Uncle."
She pouted, looking down at Maxwell Peary with a wronged gaze.
"Call ’husband’ and let hear it."
Maxwell Peary raised an eyebrow. If anyone took a picture of this expression, they’d never believe this was Young Master Peary.
"No way!"
Nia Mitchell adamantly refused. So what? She’d just stay suspended in the air then!
Seeing her stubborn little face, Maxwell Peary lowered her and stole a quick kiss.
"Bring out the thermoter, let see."
Nia Mitchell nodded and took out the thermoter.
"Your fever has gone down. Go freshen up first."
After saying this, Maxwell Peary turned and swiftly left.
It seed to happen in an instant. The entire washroom was empty except for her; she was montarily stunned, unable to process what had just happened.
His expression had changed the mont she refused to call him ’husband’.
Hmm...
Is Uncle Peary getting angry?
Even if Nia Mitchell racked her little brain, she couldn’t understand why Maxwell Peary’s expression had changed so abruptly.
Just outside the washroom door, Maxwell Peary stood with a darkened face, his brows slightly knitted.
After a long mont, he glanced down at a certain part of him that was still noticeably aroused and sighed helplessly. If she weren’t sick, he would have definitely taken her.
User Comments
0 comments from readers