Love’s Cruel Stroke

Chapter 43 Property of Shirley Yates

The spaghetti was coated in a spiced red sauce without any further seasoning, and it went without saying that it made quite a mess on the front of Rachel’s shirt the moment it splattered over the fabric. It didn’t help that the liquid was seeping through her shirt as well and causing it to cling to her curves, thereby revealing the edge of her undergarment.

All the color drained from Damian’s face. “I-I’m sorry!” He couldn’t believe that he had done something so foolish on the day Rachel was visiting him, especially since she had never dropped by the house before this. “I’ll help you to clean it up!” he offered, then hastily grabbed a handful of tissues as he made to wipe up the sauce on her shirt.

Jordan frowned at this. He couldn’t quite describe the feeling in words, but he didn’t like the idea of Damian touching Rachel either, at least not while the mess was splattered across such a delicate area of her body. He abruptly rose from his seat and interjected icily, “Maybe you should change out of that shirt, Miss Yates.”

Rachel grabbed the tissues and pressed them to her shirt, obscuring the outline of her undergarment and the suggestive view of her curves. As things were, her shirt was already soaked with sauce and she had a feeling that her undergarment did not survive the damage either. She couldn’t very well leave the place looking like this.

Pursing her lips, she asked, “Do you think I could wash up and have my clothes thrown in the laundry here, Mr. Ford?”

Damian quickly nodded. “Of course, you can! Come with me!” With that, he earnestly took her hand and led her up the stairs.

He pushed open a door on the second floor and said excitedly, “This is my bedroom. I have plenty of new clothes in my wardrobe, so you’re welcome to pick out any shirt you like, Miss Rachel!” He proudly threw open the door to his wardrobe to reveal the vast selection of boys’ clothes hanging within.

Rachel gaped at the clothes, unsure of what she should say at the moment. She might have a small frame, but she wasn’t small enough to fit into children’s sizes.

“Miss Yates, there are a few dresses here that might just suit you,” Jordan suddenly piped up from where he had materialized at the doorway of Damian’s bedroom.

Rachel affectionately tousled Damian’s hair, then followed Jordan into the bedroom next door.

In the room was a long rack from which hung a row of designer dresses with price tags still on them, which meant they were newly bought. “Pick whichever you like,” Jordan said as he took a seat on the couch.

“Thank you, Mr. Ford,” she said, then pursed her lips as she walked up to the rack. She picked out a white dress without much thought, but just as she was about to head into the bathroom with it, she saw the label on the dress that read, ‘Property of Shirley Yates’.

These dresses are all for Shirley! All of a sudden, Rachel felt as if she had touched something dirty and she quickly shoved the dress back onto the rack.

If there was a row of Shirley’s clothes in Ford Residence, then her relationship with Jordan was far more intimate than Rachel had thought.

In an abrupt change of mind, Rachel decided she would like to remain in her soiled clothes. She pressed her lips into a thin line before she parted them to say, “I think it’d be best if I head home for new clothes, Mr. Ford. I’ll see myself out.”

Jordan narrowed his eyes because he had sensed her emotional shift after she saw these dresses. He couldn’t understand her aversion toward these new clothes, so he said forthrightly, “Miss Yates, your face alone is enough to inspire wicked thoughts in men. You’d be playing with fire if you were to go out looking like this.”

She looked down. Sauce aside, the damp parts of her shirt front made her silhouette even more suggestive and she could even make out the patterns of her lace bra underneath the fabric. Indeed, heading out like this seemed inappropriate.

With a resigned sigh, she muttered, “Then, I’ll have to settle for washing the stain off my shirt and drying it.”

He stood up and walked out of the room before he returned with a shirt in hand. “Here, this is mine. You could wear it for now, if you don’t mind.” He casually threw the shirt at her and she reached out with an arm hastily to catch it.

She would much rather wear his shirt than touch another one of Shirley’s dresses. Draping the shirt over her arm, she made her way into the bathroom.

Soon, the sound of running water came from the bathroom and filled the silence.

Jordan was seated outside, and inexplicably, his throat felt dry. If he cast a subtle sideways glance into the bathroom, he could see Rachel’s silhouette through the glass partition of the shower, and the flickering image of it seemed to stir up the heat in the pit of his stomach.

When Rachel was done showering, she proceeded to wash the stain out of her shirt. She had discarded Jordan’s shirt to one side and had no plans of wearing it for the time being.

However, when she wrung out her shirt, she saw that there was no blow dryer in the bathroom. She could rummage through the bedroom for it or ask the man outside to bring her one, but either option would not work if she were to remain half-naked. Exasperated and left without a choice, she pulled on his shirt in the end.

The white shirt was large and reached her knees, which obscured her figure from view. She glanced in the mirror, and after making sure that she looked presentable, she opened the bathroom door and walked out.

The steam from the bathroom escaped at once and shrouded her like some ethereal fog. Even her alabaster skin looked flawless and glistening.

Jordan looked up at that moment, and he was pulled into a stupor.

He didn’t think he had ever been at such a loss of composure before, not even when Shirley showed up four years ago with a pair of twins in her arms. However, for some reason, he was captivated by Rachel and her stunning beauty. It was no wonder that she had been crowned Seaview City’s Aphrodite as a teenager; she truly lived up to the name.

Rachel was placid most times, but even she was beginning to feel embarrassed by the way Jordan’s scorching gaze lingered on her. She cleared her throat and asked, “Mr. Ford, may I know where the blow dryer is?”

Her voice practically dragged him out of his daze. Damn it! How could I stare with an open mouth at a woman who just came out of the shower? Now, she’s going to think I’m some uncouth beast! “I’ll go and get it for you,” he offered hastily, then bolted out of the bedroom into his own. He found the blow dryer, but just as he was about to return to the room she was in, he stopped in his tracks. Taking a second look at that woman is much like jumping into the sea after hearing a siren’s song.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he made to give her the blow dryer when he suddenly remembered that Joe was a man, too. An old man, granted, but a man nonetheless, and there was no evidence that beastly thoughts would wane with age.

Taking a gulp, Jordan braced himself and passed the blow dryer to Rachel, who looked at him and answered, “Thank you, Mr. Ford.”

She turned to enter the bathroom and closed the door behind her, thereafter delicately drying her shirt with the blow dryer.

Jordan resumed his seat outside, and as he listened to the whirring sound of the blow dryer, he felt the strange heat that had seized him slowly subside.

Ten minutes later, Rachel wore her own clean shirt and came out of the bathroom. There was a courteous smile on her face as she said, “I’m sorry for the trouble today, Mr. Ford. I’ve washed and dried your shirt as well.” She handed him the white shirt.

He took it over and could still pick up the faint scent of her feminine fragrance on it. Swallowing, he willed his voice to be steady as he said, “Drop by Ford Inc. tomorrow, and we’ll talk about the collaboration.”

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Having said that, she walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs, her high heels clicking against the polished floors.

Presently, Damian was doing his homework in the living room when he saw her coming downstairs. He abandoned his workbook and happily rushed up to her. “Miss Rachel, could you please stay a little longer?”

Like I would have the nerve to, she thought sardonically. She had seen the predatory way Jordan was staring at her earlier, and it made her want to shrink into a corner and hide. “I’ll drop by for a visit some other time, Damian. I really have to get going now. Be good and learn how to keep to your boundaries, okay? Or I won’t come by anymore.”

Damian pouted and waved at her, looking dejected as he replied, “Got it, Miss Rachel. Bye-bye, then.”