Chapter 115: [Gifts] [Appreciated]

[Leanna's POV]

[Gifts]

"C-Cain . . . I-I can't anymore . . ."

"Leanna . . . you can do it . . ."

"Please . . . I think . . . *unghh . . . I'll choke . . ."

"Just a little more, honey . . . That's it, Leanna . . . swallow it all down . . ."

I almost spat the carrots when my throat refused to accept it. Teary eyes, I grabbed a glass of water and gulped it all down.

Ulp! I covered my mouth and forced my throat to swallow it inside in its rightful place when the disgusting thing threatened to go back up.

"Good girl, Leanna . . . You've finished your vegetables." Cain patted my head and ruffled my hair in a doting manner.

I glared at him.

This was Cain's first wish, for me to finish all my vegetables every day, and each week, he would give me a photo. The ruthless man, taking this opportunity, ordered vegetable dishes for dinner!

Unghh . . .

The lingering tastes of carrots made me want to vomit everything out. Seeing my sour face, Cain poured water into my glass, and I drank it all.

It was only a day, and it was already torture. But . . .

But . . .

My . . . precious . . .

Just thinking of those pictures when he was young made my mouth water. I didn't mind eating carrots or bitter gourd or legumes or eggplants or any icky-yucky vegetables! As long as I could have one of his rare photos.

Damn it!

Bring it on vile, abominable creations of earth! I'm ready for you!

----

I tried not to gape at the mountain of gifts when we entered our bedroom.

These were all the gifts Cain bought for me in his three weeks' business travel. I hadn't gotten the chance to open it yet when we arrived yesterday for I was exhausted to the bones.

Now, thinking about opening it all tires me.

I shot a peek at the man beside me, oozing with expectations. I bit my lip, feeling a little guilty for not feeling thrilled at his gifts. I sat on the carpeted floor, trying my best to be excited on the first box my hand laid on.

Cain sat down beside me while Little Pluffy was curious at what we were up to as he wiggled his way into me and rested his fat furry self on my lap.

Cain grabbed him and put him down on the carpet. I stifled a laugh as I patted little Pluffy's head when the little guy grumpily slumped his chubby body beside me.

I sighed and shifted my attention to unwrapping the piles and piles of gifts before me. There was a disadvantage of being rich. Material things didn't excite me as much as those times when I didn't have money.

Never would I expect that Cain could still make me squeal in delight when different flavored snacks, unknown to me, stumbled my eyes.

Food!

Nothing excites me better than food! Especially if I haven't tried it yet. Almost half of the gifts were different flavored snacks, and all have nuts, lots of cream and cheese, vanilla and chocolate –– my favorite flavors!

There were some bags, clothes, and pieces of jewelry as well. But what caught my attention was the four sets of one square meter safe box full of Bijoux expensive customized charm beads made of different rare stones. A vintage music box, and a coin size musical locket with an aquamarine diamond in the center covered by white gold carvings.

I didn't dare imagine the price of all his gifts.

"Do you like it?"

Cain extended his hand to support his weight as he inched closer to me.

. . .

. . .

Instead of answering, I hugged him and planted feather-light kisses on his cheeks.

"I love it! Thank you so much!"

Cain smiled as he shifted his head, and our lips met in a deep kiss.

"My pleasure . . . ," he murmured between kisses.

My hands gripped the back of his head and deepened the kiss.

I love this man . . . ????

You are reading story Leanna at novel35.com

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[Leanna's POV]

[Appreciated]

It was already twelve in the morning when I finished my report on Azuela Cove and VIOS and all other stuff relating to my investments.

After I signed the papers and sent all the reports to their respective recipients, I closed my laptop, took off my eyeglasses, and placed it on the bedside table. My glasses were for protection against radiation and glares since I often used computers and draw on my Wacom tablet.

I massaged my eyes and looked at the sleeping man beside me. Cain's face was ice-cold handsome, even asleep. The late nights of work were catching up under his eyes.

In the quiet, dim-lit room, his peaceful breathing dispelled most of my exhaustion. His soft heartbeat was like a lullaby. It was even more soothing than the gentle tones of the musical box.

I slid out from bed and tiptoed my way into the dresser to get an eye cream. After which I climbed back to bed with all caution, and gently applied the cream under his eyes. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath until I finished applying the cream.

I grabbed his laptop and was going to place it on the bedside table when something caught my eyes. On the screen were some words in PowerPoint, and pictures –– half finish.

I guess he must have dozed off and didn't finish his presentation.

Guilt ate my heart. I couldn't help but think that I was getting in the way of his work. He was a busy man, yet he still gave me one hundred percent of his attention. He always woke up early to accompany me to walked little Pluffy and ever tried his best to come home before seven, so we could have dinner together.

Come to think of it. He was always the one who cooked breakfast and dinner, and I was like a Princess he would always serve.

I shook my head to get the negative thoughts out of my mind and studied his presentation.

One thing I was absolutely good at was using my eyes. Being an architect in my past life, making presentations for clients was as easy as breathing.

I studied his use of colors, his text, his composition. When I got everything I needed, I finished his presentation for him. Luckily, there was already a breakdown of topics and the presentation was all about VIOS, so I have an inkling about the project.

It was past two in the morning when I wrap everything up. After I save and send the presentation to my email just in case the file would corrupt (I know, paranoid much) I placed his laptop on the bedside table together with mine. I softly kissed his lips and snuggled myself against his warm chest.

----

I tried to ignore the uneasy feeling brought by Cain's constant glances at me in the kitchen. I volunteered to cook our breakfast, and he was sitting in the dining table with his laptop. I know he must have noticed it by now.

Is he angry?

Is he angry that I butt my nose in his business without asking his permission first?

I served our food on the table and sat opposite him. I poured his cup with his favorite lemon honey ginger tea, not making eye contact. I was about to retract my hand after I placed the teapot down when Cain held it as his eyes captured mine.

He's angry at me!

He's angry at me!

My hand quivered until Cain's lips curved in a warm smile.

"Thank you."

. . .

. . .

His thumb stroked the back of my palm, and warm feelings flooded all of me.

"D-do you like it?" My body flared, and I knew my face must be all red by now.

"I love it. It's perfect. You're even better than me at this. I can't believe you're just sixteen. Where did you learn to make professional business presentations?"

My head was red like a tomato upon hearing all his compliments –– until the last part of his sentence, which made the colors drained right off my face.

"I . . . umm . . . You know . . . I love arts and stuff.  I just . . . studied your composition and . . . googled the rest."

I bit my lips. I hated it when I lied to him. I knew he knew I was not telling the whole truth –– good thing he didn't press for more.

"Is that so . . . Thank you." He kissed my hand and, my blood boiled when his hot tongue circled the back of my palm while his frosty eyes held mine in fierce captive.

"I-if you want . . . I-I can . . . nghh . . . do your . . . mmm . . . presentation . . . unghh . . . from now on . . ." I forced out the words as he licked and sucked my fingers.

"That will be a big help. I appreciate it." He guided my fingers into caressing his face as he closed his eyes, devouring the scent of my hand.

S-sensual! Too sensual!

Happiness, love, and a sense of satisfaction and importance battled all at once.

Is this what he always feels when he cooked for me?  Or do things that makes me happy?

I wonder.

This feeling is quite addicting.

I wanted to caress his cold, smooth face some more –– if not for my eyes that caught something in the newspaper.

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