The lavishly decorated bathroom exuded European elegance, with crystal chandeliers and intricately carved wall reliefs, every detail crafted to perfection.

Harriet filled the oversized bathtub with water, then stepped down and stood two meters away, head slightly bowed, awaiting Mr. Robert's arrival for his bath.

The thought of facing a completely naked man sent waves of nervousness through her.

She could grit her teeth and endure it if it were just about assisting him with his bath. But what if he suddenly gave in to his desires? He was so tall and imposing. What if he forced himself on her?

No, no. Countless women longed to climb into Mr. Robert's bed; he was notoriously picky. There was no way he'd take an interest in her.

Of course, she didn’t want him to take an interest in her either.

When Robert strode into the bathroom without so much as glancing at her, she exhaled slightly in relief. His fingers moved to his buttons, and without hesitation, he undressed right in front of her, letting his clothes drop carelessly to the floor.

Harriet didn’t dare look. She bent down, gathered his discarded garments, and placed them neatly in their designated spot before returning to her position, head still lowered.

A faint blush crept across her cheeks, her eyes darting uncertainly, unsure where to rest.

At some point, Robert’s gaze settled on her flustered expression, then drifted to her nervously fidgeting hands. The corner of his lips curled into an inscrutable smirk.

A few seconds later, he stepped gracefully into the bathtub.

"Come here and scrub my back," he commanded.

Silently, Harriet picked up a towel and climbed the steps, positioning herself behind him.

She struggled to steady herself, taking several deep breaths before mustering the courage to reach out.

*pretend he’s a child. Bathing a child is nothing to be nervous about. *

Repeating the mantra in her head, she pressed the trembling towel against his skin.

The moment she touched him, he suddenly turned around, startling her so much she nearly dropped the towel.

"Look at me!"

His voice carried an undeniable command.

Her panicked gaze met his, only to find his deep, mesmerizing eyes pulling her in like a vortex, intensifying her nervousness.

Helpless, she lowered her eyes, letting them linger on his tightly pressed lips.

They were thin yet beautifully shaped.

The way she stared at his lips, entranced, almost enchanted, made his gaze grow noticeably hotter.

Just as she tried to avert her eyes from his scorching stare, his large hand suddenly broke through the water, reaching out from the bathtub to seize her wrist. With a sharp tug, she lost her balance—

*Splash! *

She tumbled straight onto his solid, muscular frame.

Her dress soaked through instantly, clinging to her body and revealing every delicate curve. Water surged over the rim of the tub, cascading down the steps and flooding the marble floor.

Harriet was stunned by his sudden move. For a second or two, she just froze, before thrashing against him with all her might.

His iron-like arm locked around her waist, seemingly effortless, yet she couldn’t budge an inch.

The more she struggled, the closer their bodies pressed together. The intimacy of their position sent waves of panic through her.

Was he… was he about to lose control?

"You—" She barely got the word out before his lips crashed down on hers, silencing whatever protest she had.

His damp mouth gently captured her soft lips, sending a tingling sensation racing through her body. A shiver ran down her spine, involuntary and electric.

For a moment, her mind went blank, leaving her staring dazedly at his impossibly perfect face.

He sensed her inexperience, the kind untouched by any man before. And to his surprise, it stirred an urge in him to deepen the kiss.

He’d known countless women, yet never had he felt this compelled to kiss one.