Diana Bell felt as if a faint electric current had jolted her heart, causing even her toes to curl back instinctively.
William Knight's hand paused as he applied the ointment. He looked up at her, his dark eyes shimmering like stars. "Did I hurt you?"
"No," Diana whispered.
William assumed she was simply too shy to admit to the pain, so his movements became even gentler, more meticulous, and slower. Time seemed to lose its fluidity, freezing in place.
With her sole pressed against his palm, the temperature of their skin-to-skin contact began to rise steadily.
A playful smile flickered on William's lips. "Are you feeling hot?"
Diana countered cleverly, "I feel like you're the hot one. Why is your palm constantly scorching my foot?"
William let out a low chuckle. "Is it me scorching you?"
"Most likely," Diana replied.
William arched an eyebrow. "Then let's say it is."
Diana found that this esteemed Knight Family Heir was actually quite easy to talk to—nothing like the ruthless, cold-blooded man described in the rumors.
Seeing how unhurried and composed he was, Diana asked, "Mr. Knight, are you not busy anymore?"
"I am," William admitted.
"Then finish up and go back to work."
"No need," William said calmly. "I've pushed my work back."
This man, who lived for his career and usually thrived on being busy every waking second, had actually postponed his work. Diana was stunned. "Why?"
"To visit your grandmother with you."
A warm wave of emotion spread through Diana's chest. She didn't know if he felt any love for her, but as a husband, he seemed to be doing everything right.
Well, almost everything. They still hadn't... actually been together.
After finishing with the ointment, William warned her, "This won't heal overnight. Minimize your walking and rest for two days."
"Okay," Diana said, glancing toward the sink. "Go wash your hands."
William placed her snowy-white foot back onto her shoe, and the scorching, silky sensation of their skin contact vanished. He stood up, glancing at her foot one last time. "Your feet are very pretty."
Diana wanted to argue—how could they be pretty when covered in a thick layer of herbal-scented ointment?
Then she heard him murmur, "They're pink." He stared at her foot as if it were a rare specimen. "How can even your feet be pink?"
Diana's face suddenly flushed with heat. The way he said it made it sound as if he had seen other "pink" parts of her. In reality, she had never undressed in front of him, and he hadn't undressed in front of her. She didn't even know if he had abs.
William's gaze swept across her face, lingering for a fraction of a second on her lips before he turned to wash his hands.
Left alone in the room, the air finally began to circulate again. Diana patted her chest and let out a long, shaky breath.
The burn on her foot had swollen; every time it rubbed against her shoe, it felt like a needle prick. Keeping one shoe on and the other foot raised, she began to hop her way out.
When William emerged from the washroom, he saw Diana already twenty meters down the hallway. She was hopping surprisingly fast.
As she reached a corner, an elderly man walked straight toward her. In her haste to dodge, Diana hopped backward, lost her balance, and began to tumble toward the floor.
Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps approached from behind. She was caught by the backs of her knees and lifted into a bridal carry.
Still shaken, Diana wrapped her arms around William's neck, her palms resting against the skin of his nape. "Mr. Knight, your timing is perfect."
William carried her toward Catherine's room. "You should have just waited in the treatment room for me to carry you. Why were you hopping around like that?"
"I thought I could make it back on my own," Diana muttered.
"What did you think you were? Mario from Super Mario? One hop, a bump of the head, and you've successfully spawned a mushroom to clear the level?"
Diana's body went limp in his arms as she leaned into him. She lowered her eyes, looking a bit aggrieved. "I didn't think that."
William looked down at her. Seeing her long lashes trembling like a bullied child, she looked incredibly vulnerable and endearingly pitiful. Usually, she was radiant and glamorous, but when she was upset, that childish innocence made one want to protect her. These two contrasting temperaments blended perfectly on her beautiful face, creating a unique, moving charm.
As they reached the door, Diana whispered, "Grandmother is inside. Put me down."
"Why?" William asked. "A legally married couple needs to avoid suspicion?"
He walked right in, carrying her without a hint of hesitation.
Catherine, who had been craning her neck wondering where Diana had gone, saw a man carrying her granddaughter back. Diana was holding onto his neck quite intimately.
"Diana, who is this man?"
"He is my..." Diana still wasn't quite practiced at the word. "...husband."
William's brow twitched upward, a clear sign of his pleasure. He placed Diana gently on the nursing cot before bowing his head toward Catherine in a solemn, respectful greeting. "Grandmother."
Catherine studied the tall, handsome man and asked with a smile, "What is your name?"
"William Knight," he replied. "My own grandmother calls me William. Meeting you for the first time today feels very familiar; you can call me William, just like she does."
Catherine's polite smile turned into a genuine, heartfelt one. "William... I felt a connection the moment I saw you, too."
William noticed the soothing tea on the table and deduced why Diana had gone for hot water. He stepped out and returned with the thermos, brewed a cup, and handed it to Catherine with both hands. "Be careful, it's hot," he reminded her softly.
A handsome man often finds it easier to win a woman's favor, especially when he is charming, diligent, and helpful. Even at nearly eighty years old, Catherine couldn't resist his charisma. She turned to Diana and said, "Diana, your husband is clearly a good man."
Diana could feel that William was making a conscious effort to please her grandmother today. A man valuing a woman's family is not just a sign of his feelings for her, but a sign of respect. She was deeply moved by his efforts.
William remained standing until Catherine insisted he sit. No matter what question she asked, he answered with total sincerity. Catherine's mind drifted in and out of clarity, sometimes repeating the same question four or five times, but William showed no impatience, answering her over and over again.
Once Catherine finished her tea, the drowsiness finally kicked in. She began to doze off in her chair. William immediately stood up and helped her lie down under the covers.
Now, the only people awake in the room were William and Diana. As for Noah Bell, once he fell asleep, he was out for the count. You could have hauled him off to another country and he wouldn't have blinked. The lighthearted truly do sleep best.
There was only one nursing cot in the room—a narrow thing, barely 1.2 meters wide. It was more than enough for Diana, but with the tall, muscular William Knight, it would be a tight squeeze.
"Mr. Knight, there's a five-star hotel near the care center you could stay at," Diana suggested.
William sat on the edge of the cot beside her. "I'm staying here."
"Then I'll sleep on the sofa," Diana offered.
"We've only been married five days and you already want to sleep in separate beds?" William asked.
"That's not what I meant. This bed can't fit two people."
"Is that so?" William's arm hooked around her waist, pulling her down onto the bed. He held her from behind, his powerful body fitting against hers perfectly without a gap.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his warm lips brushing against her sensitive skin. "See? We fit just fine. Let's sleep."