Chapter263

Lizetta yanked her hand out of Remington’s scorching palm like her life depended on it.

She was about to struggle when Remington flipped off of her.

The

guy satonthe edge of the bed,peeledoffhisshirt,andthe sun kissedhis back, muscles rolling smoothlywithhis movements,”sexyas hell.

But Lizetta,she lifted herfoot,on autopilot tryingtogive him another piece of her mind – or rather, her foot, aiming to kick himoffthe

bed.

Little did she know,Remington seemed to have eyes in thebackof his head. The moment her footwentup, his cool voice cut through the air.

“Try kicking me again andI’llmakeyoucry under me!”

His voice was husky,the last word heavywithawarning laced with restrained desire.

Lizetta chickened out, her raised foot reluctantly retreating.

But Remington just sat there catching his breath, not making another move.

Lizetta’s heartbeat slowly settled down too, as she lay there, unknowingly fixated on the man’s back.

He had that kind of bod that flexed with clothes on,and even more so with them off –arealpiece of eye candy, muscles in all the right places.

His back and shoulders were well–developed, a thin layer perfectly covering his spine, tapering down to a tight waist, and even the vertebraeatthe base of his neck were ruggedly perfect.

—

The guy’s skin was pale,delicate, and glossy.Oldscars on his back and right side didn’t make him any less enticing in fact, theyaddedawild, rugged story to his charm.

Lizettahad never really scoped out his body like this before; he never gave her the chance, always dressed quicker than a blushing bride.

She’d caught a glimpse of those scars before, a couple on his chest and abdomen.

Lizetta had asked about them, but he told her to mind her own beeswax.

Now, her attention was back on those scars. They’d faded but still looked fierce, making you wonder how bad the wounds had been.

But before he went abroad, he was unmarked, Even overseas, as the Dashiell family heir, he had a ton of people watching his back, living the high life who could’ve hurt him?

–

Why all these scars, as if he’d lived the life of a fugitive abroad?

Lizetta couldn’t figure it out, and Remington wasn’t spilling the beans.

As they’d grown up, they’d gathered too many secrets between them.

Remington no longer let her into his world.

“Lizetta, keep staring and I’ll take it as an invitation,” he suddenly turned, his eyes smoldering and deep, locking onto Lizetta’s sneaky

gaze.

Lizetta’s face flushed again, and she scrambled up, making her escape from the other side of the bed.

“I’m not inviting you! You stripped down to nothing, giving me no choice but to look.”

Remington chuckled, “How else am I supposed to apply the ointment? Go get the burn cream.”

“Oh.”

That’s when it clickedforLizetta. She was there to help with his burn.

She rummaged for the cream butdidn’tcome any closer, tossing it on the bed before announcing, “It’s on your chest, you can reach it. I’m going to see Grandma.”

Like a rabbit running for its life, shedidn’tdare get close to the dangerous big bad wolf again.

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Dropping the cream, she dashed to the door andboltedout.

The door slammed shut behind her, and Remington just sat there, looking at the cream by his hand and laughing to himself.

When Lizetta got back to Fiona’s room,Fionaseemedto be asleep, propped up against the headboard.

Lizetta tiptoed over,about to pull up the blanket that had slipped down to her waist when Fiona opened her eyes and asked,

“Liz, are you really leaving tomorrow?Can’t you stay?”

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Turns out, Fiona wasn’t asleep; she’d been waiting for her.

Lizetta sat down beside the bed, holding Fiona’s hand,her eyes brimmingwithloveandguilt.

“Grandma,I’ve made up my mind.”

Fiona sighed,nodding her head, “Alright,Liz. If you’ve decided, then I will supportyou.”

Tears threatenedtospill from Lizetta’s eyes, but not wanting Fiona tosee,she leaned inandrestedher headonFiona’s shoulder.

“Grandma, you agree, thank you. I’ll video callyouoften.”