Chapter 992

Heather, recently showered, wore a large night robe cinched at her slender waist. Her exposed calf, muscular from a year of kickboxing, contrasted with her delicate frame. Her well-proportioned figure and fair skin were captivating.

She walked to her desk, paused, and picked up a large towel to dry her hair. The dripping water was uncomfortable, but she disliked hair dryers, resorting to vigorous towel-drying.

"Let me help you!"

Ralph hastily set down his tray and approached.

She turned away, coldly replying, "No need."

He hesitated, then recalled his goals. He forced a smile. "Why are you so distant? We're getting married! Rubbing your hair too hard will damage it. Let me help."

"No need!"

She finished drying, flipped her hair, and shook her head, spraying water everywhere. Some droplets splashed Ralph's face.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The scent was captivating. Heather, disdainful of elaborate hair care, wore her shoulder-length hair simply. She casually rubbed her hair, then saw his sour expression and remembered why she'd summoned him. A cold demeanor wouldn't elicit cooperation.

After a moment's thought, she picked up the discarded towel and offered it. "I don't like hair dryers. Use this to help me."

Ralph was overjoyed, but frowned upon touching the sodden towel. "This is soaked. I'll get you a fresh one."

Heather almost protested, but reconsidered and let him proceed.

Ralph returned with a dry towel, stood behind her, gently gathered her hair, and carefully dried it.

"Wet hair makes you susceptible to illness. I know you're busy, but you must take care of yourself! After we're married, I can help share your burdens. Women deserve to be pampered; some things are best left to men!"

He seized the opportunity. Heather coldly smirked, understanding his implied meaning. They both knew their marriage motivations; specifically, he knew his, but not hers. They likely assumed she desired the Russell family's wealth.

How naive. The Russells possessed considerable assets, but none were as vital to her as the secret kickboxing handbook.

Heather remained silent, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation, then casually remarked, "Your house is quite large, Ralph. Aren't you afraid of thieves?"