Chapter 149
Chapter 149:
Brinley finally understood what Austin was doing. He wasn’t going to confront Milly outright. Instead, he planned to let someone else force her to pay for her own schemes. The strategy carried a ruthless elegance, and Brinley found it far more satisfying than any direct clash.
“You’re really cunning,” she murmured under her breath.
Catching her faint smile, Austin’s gaze softened, the frost in his eyes thawing. “If I’m not cunning enough, how can I protect you p>
Heat rushed to her cheeks at the weight of his words, and she quickly turned away, pretending to study the city lights spilling through the window. Silence stretched between them, broken only by the steady tick of the wall clock. Yet Brinley could feel Austin’s eyes on her—sharp, unwavering.
Her thoughts drifted back to the beginning, when she had watched him with suspicion, convinced their whirlwind marriage was calculated and his affection nothing but a facade.
𝗢𝗋𝘨𝘢ո𝘪𝘻е у𝗈𝘶𝗋 li𝗯𝘳𝖺𝗿𝘆 oո
Those doubts had begun to crumble as she saw how he cared for her, even willing to challenge the Palmer family head-on.
He remembered her small preferences and cooked meals just for her. Earlier, when he’d seen her injured, he had pulled her into his arms without hesitation, anxiety written all over him.
Those gestures—like warmth slowly steeping into water—had seeped quietly into her heart.
She realized his care for her was real.
“What’s on your mind?” Austin’s voice cut through the quiet.
Startled, Brinley looked up at him and mumbled, slightly flustered, “Nothing. Just… thanks p>
He tilted his head, one brow lifting. “Only thanks p>
Her lips curved into a faint smirk as she shot back, “What more are you expecting p>
A quiet laugh slipped from him as he rose and moved to her bedside. He leaned down, close enough that his breath brushed across her forehead. “When you’re better, how about you buy me dinner p>
The nearness of him made her pulse stumble, her heart tripping over itself.
The urge to retreat flickered through her, but it stalled beneath the gentle weight of his hand at the back of her neck.
“Don’t move.” His voice was low and rough-edged, carrying a quiet command. “Let me see your wound p>
His gaze dropped to the bandage on her arm. With painstaking care, his fingertips traced the edge, each motion controlled—as though he were handling something impossibly fragile.
Warmth ached in her chest, a softness she hadn’t expected. “It really doesn’t hurt anymore,” she murmured, her tone carrying an unintentional reliance.
Austin straightened and smoothed the blanket around her shoulders. “If you’re tired, close your eyes. I’ll stay and keep watch p>
Still tense from the earlier scare and drained by the storm of emotions, her body finally yielded to exhaustion.
She nodded and let her eyes close, though sleep clung stubbornly out of reach.