Chapter 20 Chapter Nineteen

Due to the haste of departure, Max and Bowman only brought a few personal items with them, except for a few changes of clothes and the most basic toiletries.Sitting face to face in the family carriage, they talked very little.The strong wind and rain hit the carriage violently, making Max worry about the driver and horses outside. Traveling in weather like this is definitely a brave man, but Max would not forgive himself if Matthew Swift... Phelan... was dragged from the stone garden without any protection.Wendell Walling's obsession with revenge has obviously reached the point of madness.

Daisy's sense of Waring was so acute that having another person pay for Harry's crimes would neither bring his son back from the dead nor help his memory.But in Walling's mind, it's the last thing he can do for his son.He might also have been convinced that Harry would be cleared simply by throwing Matthew in prison. Harry Walling tried to make Matthew a victim in order to cover up his own depravity.Max would never allow Wendell Walling to do what his son hadn't done. "Do you doubt him?" asked Thomas Bowman suddenly.Max had never seen him so distraught.The incident must have been extremely painful for Bowman.He has a fatherly affection for Matthew Swift, perhaps even more than his own son.There is no question that a strong and close bond has developed between the two, Swift—a young man without a father, and Bowman—who needs someone to guide and lead.

"You're asking me if I doubt Swift? Not one iota. I think he's telling the truth, which is vastly different from Waring's version." "I think so too. I know Swift as a person, and I can assure you that in all the affairs I've dealt with him, he's been upright and principled to the extreme." Max smiled. "Can anyone be too honest?" Bowman shrugged, his beard shaking with a forced smile. "Well...sometimes excessive integrity can be a burden to business." There was the crackling of headlights, uncomfortably close, making the back of Max's neck tingle with foreboding. "It's crazy," he muttered, "and if they get away with crossing the Hampshire border, they'll soon have to stop at an inn. There's a couple of streams in the area that are bigger than the average river." Be big. If the water surges upstream to a certain extent, all the roads will be impassable."

"God, I hope so," said Thomas Bowman fervently, "and I couldn't be happier than to see Waring and those two bumbling idiots forced to take Swift back to the main house in Stone Word." It's gone." The carriage slowed down and stopped suddenly, and the loud noise of the rainstorm sounded like thousands of fists hitting the carriage. "What's going on?" Bowman lifted the curtains and looked out, but nothing could be seen outside the window except the boundless darkness and the rain pouring down the glass. "Damn it," Max said. There was a terrified slap on the door, and it was jerked open, revealing the pale face of the coachman.His black top hat and cloak melted into the darkness, making him appear disembodied, just a floating head. "Sir," he said breathlessly, "there's an accident up ahead—you'll have to see—"

Max jumped out of the carriage in an instant, and the icy rain lashed him with astonishing force.He snatched a headlight from its socket and followed the coachman toward the stream that lay ahead. "Christ," Max murmured. The carriage in which Wallin and Matthew were riding was parked on a simple wooden bridge.One end of the bridge had broken away from the river bank and was twisted and skewed in the stream.The turbulent waves of the flood destroyed part of the wooden bridge, and the rear wheels of the carriage were half submerged in the water. The horses pulling the carriage struggled in vain, but they could not pull the carriage.The wooden bridge swayed back and forth in the rapids like a child's toy, and the end where it joined the bank was also precarious.

It is impossible to get close to the trapped carriage.It was the end of the wooden bridge that had been washed away near them, and trying to cross the rapids was tantamount to suicide. "My God, no!" he heard Bowman cry out in horror. They could do nothing but watch as the coachman of Wallin's coach struggled to save himself, frantically undoing the straps that bound the horses to the shaft poles. At the same time, the top door of the sinking carriage was suddenly pushed open, and a figure began to climb out of the carriage with difficulty. "Is that Swift?" Bowman asked, getting as close to the shore as he could until he couldn't come any closer. "Swift!" But his call was drowned out by the roar of the storm, the roar of the stream, and the crash of the crumbling wooden bridge.

Everything that followed seemed to happen at once.The horses pulling the cart stumbled out of the wooden bridge and reached the opposite bank safely; there was movement on the bridge, a shadow or two; and the heavy cart sank with a chilling, almost majestic slowness. .It was half submerged at first, and maintained for a moment relying on the pitiful buoyancy...but then the lights went out, the carriage overturned, and the carriage was swept by the violent torrent and drifted downstream. That night, Daisy's sleep was fitful and unable to restrain her chaotic thoughts.She woke up again and again, always thinking about what would happen to Matthew, worrying about his safety.Just knowing that Westcliff was with him—or at least near him—could bring her some peace.

She kept thinking back to the last scene in the living room where Matthew confided in his past.How lonely and vulnerable he seemed, what a psychological burden he had borne all these years...how much courage and resourcefulness had taken him to bring himself back to life. Daisy knew she couldn't wait too long in Hampshire.She desperately wants to see Matthew, wants to comfort him.She wanted to protect him from threats from all over the world if necessary. Earlier in the evening, Mercedes had asked Daisy if the revelation of Matthew's past would affect her decision to marry him. "Yes," replied Daisy, "that makes me more determined than ever to marry him."

Lillian also joined the conversation, admitting that after learning about his past, she was more inclined to like Matthew Swift. "Nevertheless," she added, "it's better to finally find out what your married name will be." "Oh, does it matter what your last name is?" said Daisy, drawing a sheet of paper from the lap table and fiddling with it. "What are you going to do?" Lillian asked. "You don't mean to write now, do you?" "I don't know what to do," Daisy admitted. "I think I should send a message to Annabelle and Evie."

"They'll hear from Westcliff soon enough," said Lillian, "and they won't be surprised at all." "Why do you think that?" "With your penchant for stories with dramatic twists and mysterious pasts, you don't have a peaceful, mundane relationship, and that's the predictable conclusion." "Anyway," said Daisy self-mockingly, "a peaceful and ordinary love sounds attractive at this moment." After a night of restless sleep, Daisy woke up when someone came in in the morning.At first she thought it was the maid who had come to light the fire, but it was too early.It's not yet dawn, and the rain outside has eased and turned into a drizzle.

It was her sister who came. "Good morning," Daisy muttered, sitting up and stretching herself. "Why did you get up so early? Is the baby making trouble?" "No, she's still sleeping." Lillian's voice was hoarse.She was dressed in a thick velvet gown, her hair was braided loosely, and she came to the bed with a steaming cup of tea in her hand. "Here, drink." Daisy obeyed, frowning, watching Lillian sit on the edge of the bed.The situation is somewhat unusual. Something must have happened. "What's going on?" she asked, terror creeping up her spine. Lillian made a cup of tea and nodded. "You can wait until you wake up a little more." The news from London won't come so soon, Daisy thought, and it won't have anything to do with Matthew.Maybe Mom was sick, or maybe something terrible happened in the village. After swallowing a few sips of tea, Daisy leaned over to set the cup down on the bedside table, and turned her attention to her sister. "I'm as sober as I can be," she said. "Go ahead." After roughly clearing her throat, Lillian said in a thick voice, "Westcliff and Daddy are back." "What?" Daisy stared at her in confusion and panic. "Why didn't they go to London with Matthew?" "He didn't go to London either." "So they're all back?" Lillian shook her head stiffly slightly. "No, I'm sorry, I've explained it badly. I... I'll just get it straight. Shortly after Westcliff and Pa left Stones, their carriage had to be stopped due to an accident on the bridge ahead. Exit. You know that creaky old wooden bridge you have to cross whenever you take the road?" "The one across that creek?" "Yes. Well, the brook is by no means small now, and thanks to the storm it is a swift river. The bridge was evidently crumbling in the rapids, when Mr. Walling's carriage tried to pass , the bridge collapsed." Daisy froze.The bridge collapsed.She kept chewing on these words, but they seemed to be incomprehensible to her like some lost ancient language.She struggled to muster all her sanity. "Is everyone saved?" she heard herself ask. "Except for Matthew." Lillian's voice trembled. "He was trapped in the wagon when it was swept downstream." "He'll be fine." Daisy said mechanically, her heart beating like a wild animal eager to break through its cage. "He can swim, and may have landed somewhere downriver—someone has to find him—" "They're searching all over the place," said Lillian. "Westcliff is looking for him as best he can. He's just returned from searching most of the night. The carriage was smashed to pieces on its way downriver. No Matthew. But, Daisy, an officer confessed to Westcliff..." She paused, tears glistening in her brown eyes, "... admitted..." she went on with difficulty, "...Matthew's The hands were tied." Daisy's legs moved under the sheets, and she curled her knees and hugged them tightly.She hoped to shrink herself as much as possible and stay away from this bad news as much as possible. "But why?" she murmured. "There's no sense in doing that." Lillian's stubborn jaw quivered as she tried to regain control of her emotions. "Because of Matthew's past, they said he was at risk of running away again. But I think it was Walling who insisted on doing it out of spite." Daisy was dizzy from the pounding of her own pulse.She was utterly terrified, and at the same time felt as though a part of herself had been strangely ripped away.An imaginary scene flashed through her mind, Matthew struggling in the dark water, paddling with bound hands—— "No," she said, pressing both palms on her throbbing temples, and it felt like nails were being driven into her skull.She couldn't even breathe normally. "He didn't stand a chance, did he?" Lillian shook her head and looked away, tears running down her cheeks and dripping onto the sheets. How strange, thought Daisy, that she did not cry together.There was a scorching oppressive feeling in the fundus of her eyes, which reached deep into her brain, causing severe pain in her head.But the tears seem to be waiting to be triggered by some thought or word before they can be released. Daisy continued to hold her throbbing temples, almost blinded by the headache. "Are you crying for Matthew?" she asked. "Yes." Lillian took out a handkerchief from her sleeve and blew her nose hastily. "But mainly for you." She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Daisy, as if to protect her from all pain. "I love you, Daisy." "I love you too." Daisy said in a suppressed voice, she was in pain, her eyes were dry, and she was panting for breath. For the next day and night, the search continued.All the details of daily life, the hours for sleeping, working and eating, lose their meaning.Only one thing penetrated the thick numbness that wrapped Daisy in layers, and that was Westcliff's refusal to allow her to participate in the search. "You can't be of much help," Westcliff told her, losing his usual tact from exhaustion and worry. "The water levels are so high there that the search is difficult and dangerous. At best, you're going to be a distraction; at worst, you're going to get injured." Daisy knew he was right, but that didn't stop her anger from rising.The rage threatened to shatter her self-control with startling intensity, and she hastily retreated into her apathetic shell. Matthew's body may never be found.The reality of having to accept this possibility was too harsh for her to bear.Somehow, the disappearance was even worse than the death—it was as if he had never existed at all, leaving nothing to mourn.She had never understood why anyone had to see the dead body of a loved one before, and now she did.This is the only possible way to end the nightmare and release the tears and grief. "I've been wondering if I should know if he's dead," she told Lillian, sitting on the living room floor by the fireplace.She was wearing an old shawl, comfortingly soft with age.Despite the heat from the fire beside her, the layers of clothing on her body, and the cup of tea with brandy in her hand, Daisy couldn't seem to warm up. "I'm supposed to feel something but I don't feel anything, it's like I'm frozen alive. I want somewhere to hide, I don't want to put up with this, I don't want to be strong." "You don't have to be strong," Lillian said calmly. "No, I have to, because the only other option is to shatter myself into a million pieces." "I'll put you back together, not one piece is missing." A thin smile appeared on Daisy's lips as she gazed into her sister's worried face. "Lillian," she whispered, "what would I do without you?" "You never have to figure it out." Only because of the urging of her mother and sister did Daisy eat a few mouthfuls of dinner.She drank a large glass of wine, hoping it would give her a break from the constant circling of her mind. "Westcliff and Dad should be back soon," Lillian said tensely. "They haven't rested, and they probably haven't eaten yet." "Let's go to the living room," Mercedes suggested. "We can play cards for a while to divert our attention, and perhaps you can read a passage from Daisy's favorite book." Daisy gave her a sorry look. "Sorry, I can't. If you don't mind, I'd like to be upstairs alone." After washing and changing into her pajamas, Daisy glanced at the bed.Even though she was slightly drunk and tired, her heart refused the thought of going to bed. The house was very still as she walked towards the Marsden drawing room.Her bare feet tread lightly in the shadows that climb the carpet like black vines.There is only one lamp lit in the living room, and the yellow light shines through the crystal pendant hanging on the lampshade, scattering many white spots of light on the flower-patterned wall.There was a pile of reading material strewn across the settee: magazines, novels, a thin collection of humorous poetry—she had read to Matthew and watched him smile elusively as she read. How could everything happen so suddenly?How could the god of destiny so carelessly and casually manipulate a person into such an unexpected and unbearable hopeless situation? Daisy sat on the rug beside the pile of books and slowly began to put them together... some of which were to be returned to the library, others to be brought to the villagers on the day of the visit.But maybe it's not wise to try that after drinking so much.The readings did not form two neat piles, but were scattered around her, just like she had seen in dreams many times. Daisy crossed her legs and leaned against the side of the settee, resting her head on the edge of the cushion.Her fingers touched the cover of a cloth book.She glanced from under drooping lashes.A book is always a portal to another world...a world more interesting and full of fantasy than reality.But she finally found that real life can even be more beautiful than the fantasy world. Love can make the real world full of charm. Matthew was all she wanted, and her time with him was so short. The clock on the mantelpiece ticked silently and slowly.When Daisy was leaning on the backrest chair and almost dozing off, she heard the sound of the door opening and looked there dully. A man walked into the room. The man stopped as soon as he entered the door, staring at her sitting among the scattered books on the floor. Daisy looked up suddenly into his face, frozen there for a moment with longing, worry, and yearning. It was Matthew, in rough clothes she had never seen before.His vital presence seemed to fill the room. Afraid that the phantom in front of her eyes would disappear at any time, Daisy froze as if dead.Her eyes were stinging and blurred with tears.But she kept her eyes wide open, not even daring to blink, hoping to keep his image. He approached her with great concern, stooped, and gazed at her with immeasurable tenderness and concern.With one hand he pushed the books between them. "It's me, dear," he said softly. "It's all right." Daisy spat out the words with difficulty from her dry mouth, "If you are a ghost... I hope you will harass me for the rest of my life." Matthew sat down on the floor and took her cold hands. "Do ghosts still use doors?" he asked softly, taking her hand and touching his scarred, broken cheek. The feel of his skin under his palms made her suddenly overwhelmed with painful realizations.With great relief and relief, Daisy finally felt the ice of numbness break down and her emotions be released.She tried to close her eyes, feeling as though her chest would be ripped apart by her crying and sobbing.Her cries were pure and unrestrained. Matthew took her hand and held her tightly in his arms, muttering under his breath.When Daisy broke down in tears, he held her tighter, as if knowing that she needed this intense, almost bruising strength from his body. "Please, it must be real," she said breathlessly, "it must not be just a dream." "I'm serious," Matthew croaked, "don't cry so hard, it's not—oh, Daisy, baby..." He held her in both hands as she struggled to get closer to him. Her head pressed against her lips, murmuring comforting words.He lay her on the floor, over her, reassuring her with his weight. He squeezed her hands tightly, fingers intertwined with hers.Daisy gasped and turned to look at his wrist, where the skin was red and scarred. "Your hands are tied," her voice was hoarse, it sounded nothing like her, "how did you break free?" Matthew bowed his head and kissed her tear-stained cheek. "Knife," he said succinctly. Daisy's eyes widened as she continued to stare at his wrist. "Did you manage to cut the rope with a pocket knife out of your pocket in a sinking... sunken carriage?" "That's easier than wrestling a goose, I tell you." She let out a wailing laugh, but soon resumed whimpering loudly.Matthew stifled her sobbing with his mouth and comforted her with kisses. "I started cutting the rope the first time I saw something was wrong," he continued, "and I only had a few minutes before the wagon flipped into the water." "Why didn't the others help you?" Daisy asked angrily, wiping her wet cheeks with her sleeve. "It's too late for them to escape themselves. Still," continued Matthew pathetically, "I thought I was more important than the horses. But when the wagon started to be swept away by the rapids, my hands were free." Yes. The car was smashed apart by the rubble along the way. I jumped into the water and swam to the shore. But in the process I felt like I was beaten hard. I was out by a Found by the old man looking for his dog. He took me back to his farmhouse and took care of me with his wife. I passed out and woke up a day and a half later. By then, the old couple had heard about Westcrest My husband is looking for me, and they went to report to him." "I thought you were dead," Daisy's voice broke, "I thought I'd never see you again." "No, no..." Matthew smoothed her hair, kissed her cheeks, eyes and trembling lips, "I'll always come back to you. I'm reliable, remember?" "Yes, except..." She had to gasp when she felt his lips gliding to her throat, "...except for the twenty years before I met you, I have to say that you are reliable Too much." "You may have some complaints about my false identity and being convicted of theft." His lips lingered on her delicate jaw, kissing away the tears that fell. "Oh, no," said Daisy breathlessly, "I forgave you even before I knew the truth." "Dear sweetheart," Matthew murmured, burying his face in the side of her neck, caressing her with his lips and hands.She hugged him blindly, but it always felt that she wasn't close enough.He raised his head and looked down at her with an inquiring look. "Now that the whole story of this matter has been revealed, I must clear my name. Will you wait for me, Daisy?" "No." Still sobbing, she focused on undoing the wooden buttons on his borrowed clothes. "No?" Matthew looked down at her mockingly with a smile on the corner of his mouth, "You already think I'm a big trouble?" "I think life's too short—" Daisy grunted disapprovingly as she tugged at his denim shirt, "—a day can't be wasted. Those buttons are a nuisance—" He took her hand, stopping the frenzied tugging. "I don't think your family would be keen on marrying you off to a fugitive." "My father will forgive you everything. Besides, you won't be a fugitive forever. Your case will be overturned once the truth of the matter is made public." Daisy pulled out her hand and held him tightly. "Take me to Gretna Green," she begged, "tonight. That's how my sister got married, and so was Evie. Elopement is actually a wallflower tradition. Take me—" "Shh..." Matthew put his arms around her and pulled her into his firm arms. "No more running away," he whispered. "I'm finally going to face my past, though it might be a lot easier if that bastard Harry Walling wasn't dead." "There are still people who know the truth," said Daisy uneasily, "his friend, the servant you mentioned, and—" "Yeah, I know. Let's not talk about that now, God knows we'll have time later." "I want to marry you," insisted Daisy, "not waiting, just now. After I've been through this... thinking you've left me forever... nothing else matters." A choked up interrupted the last sentence. Matthew stroked her hair and wiped a tear from her face with his thumb. "Well, well, I'll go and talk to your father. Don't cry, Daisy, don't cry." But she just couldn't stop the tears of relief that kept pooling in the corners of her eyes.She trembled suddenly, and the more she tensed her body to suppress it, the more trembling she trembled. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" He ran his hands quickly across her trembling limbs. "I'm scared." He couldn't help but let out a low cry, hugged her tightly, and kissed her cheek hard. "Why, my dearest?" "I'm afraid it's a dream, and waking up suddenly to find—" another choked up, "—to find that I'm alone again and you've never been here—" "No, I'm here, I won't leave." He kissed her neck, and slowly and calmly pulled the front of her nightgown. "Let me make you feel better, baby, allow me to..." His hands soothed and wandered gently over her body.A sharp desire ran through her as his palms slid up her legs, and a faint moan escaped her lips. Hearing this voice, Matthew gasped, trying to regain control.But he found nothing, only a great need.Lost in the desperate desire to fill her with pleasure, he undressed her on the floor.He kept caressing her cold skin with the palm of his hand until the fair complexion flushed violently. Daisy trembled wildly, watching the dim light of the candle flicker in his thick hair as he leaned over her body.He calmly and delicately kissed her body... her legs, her bare belly, her trembling breasts. Everywhere he kissed, the cold shudder dissipated and turned into a passionate shudder.She sighed and relaxed in the soothing rhythm of his hands and lips.When she fumbled to open his shirt, he held up a hand to help.The coarse cloth slipped off, revealing smooth male skin.For some reason, Daisy was relieved to see the scars on his body.The presence of scars proved that she could not be dreaming.She opened her mouth to kiss a dark mark, and soothed it with the tip of her tongue. Matthew gently pulled her closer, his hands lustily tracing the curves of her waist and hips, making goosebumps appear on her thighs.Daisy squirmed with a mixture of pleasure and discomfort, the rough pile of the carpet tormenting her delicate skin and tingling her bare buttocks. Aware of this problem, Matthew smiled silently and pulled her up, letting her sit on his lap.Daisy felt hot and parched, pressing her breasts against him eagerly. "Don't stop," she whispered. He cupped her stinging buttocks with his hands. "On the floor you'll get scraped." "I don't care. I just want to... I want to..." "This?" He moved her so that she straddled his lap.The taut part of his trousers was between her legs. Excited and embarrassed, Daisy closed her eyes as she felt him caressing her private parts.His gentle touch lured bursts of moisture and sensuality in her hot core. When Daisy put her arms around his neck and clasped her hands behind his neck, her arms felt limp.If it weren't for his strong arms behind her back, she wouldn't be able to sit upright at all.All her senses were focused on the place where he touched him, his knuckles sliding in circles on her silky, wet little nucle... "Don't stop." She heard herself whispering again. She opened her eyes suddenly and felt two of Matthew's fingers inside her, then three.In an instant, the flames of desire rose to their peak like burning honey. "Are you still afraid that you are dreaming?" Matthew asked in a low voice. She swallowed tremblingly and shook her head. "I... I have never had such a dream." With a smile in his eyes, he pulled out his fingers, making her shiver with emptiness.She sobbed and rested her head on his broad shoulder.He took her to his bare chest. Daisy leaned close to him, her vision blurred, and the room in front of her was a pattern of yellow lights and black shadows.She felt herself being picked up and turned.He helped her kneel on the carpet in front of the settee.Half of her cheek was buried in the smooth satin of the chair, and at the same time her lips were slightly parted, breathing rapidly.He covered her body, his muscular body surrounded her from behind, searching for her.Then, he pushed into her, and the union between their bodies was tight, smooth and violent. Daisy froze in surprise, but his hands went to her hips, patting reassuringly, encouraging her to trust her completely.She freezes and closes her eyes, feeling the joy build up with each gentle sprint of his.One of his hands groped in front of her, his fingertips finding the swollen core of her pussy, caressing and caressing her until she reached the summit of glorious, blinding desire and trembled into a violent orgasm. After a long time, Matthew put on Daisy's nightgown, carried her through the dark corridor, and came to her bedroom.When he put her on the bed, she begged him in a low voice to stay. "No, my love," he said, leaning over her lying body in the darkness. "I also want to stay very much, but we can't go beyond the etiquette so much." "I don't want to go to sleep without you," Daisy said, gazing at the shadowy face in front of her, "and I don't want to wake up without you." "One day," he bowed his head and kissed her lips forcefully, "one day I will come to you anytime, anywhere, day and night, and hold you whenever you need." When he said the next sentence, his voice Even more somber. "Don't worry, it won't be too long." Downstairs, the exhausted Lord Westcliff lay on a couch with his head in his wife's lap.After two full days of constant searching and little sleep, Max felt bone-deep exhausted.However, he remains grateful that tragedy did not take place and that Daisy's fiancé has returned safely. Max was a little surprised at the fuss his wife made about him.As soon as he returned to the main house, Lillian brought him sandwiches and hot brandy, wiped the smudges off his face with a damp towel, anointed his scrapes with ointment, bandaged his cut fingers, and even Help him take off his muddy boots. "You look worse than Mr. Swift," Lillian retorted when he protested that he was fine. "Because I know that he has been lying on the bed in the farmhouse for the past two days, while you have been searching in the mud and rain in the forest." "He's not laying there to relax," Marks pointed out. "He's hurt." "It doesn't change the fact that you have been sleeping and barely eating to find him." Max resignedly accepted her care and attention, and was secretly pleased with the way she circled him.When he was fed and properly bandaged, Lillian was finally satisfied and let him lie down on her lap.Max sighed contentedly and stared at the roaring fire in the fireplace. Lillian caressed his hair absently with her slender fingers, and said, "It's been a while since Mr. Swift went to find Daisy. Besides, it's too quiet upstairs, don't you plan to go and have a look?" "No, even if you give me all the Chinese marijuana," Max said, repeating Daisy's favorite expression of late. "God knows what I'll interrupt." "My God," Lillian sounded horrified, "you don't think they're..." "I won't be surprised." Max paused deliberately before continuing: "Think about our past, that's how it is." As he expected, this sentence immediately diverted her attention. "So do we now," Lillian protested. "We haven't had sex since the baby was about to be born." Max sat up and stared at his dark-haired wife in the firelight.Of all the women he had ever known, she had always been, and always would be, the one to whom he was most attracted.His voice was hoarse with unexpressed enthusiasm as he asked the following question. "How long do I have to wait?" Lillian rested her head on one elbow on the back of the sofa, with an apologetic smile on her face. "The doctor said at least two more weeks, I'm sorry." Seeing his expression, she laughed. "I'm very sorry. Let's go upstairs." "I don't see the point if we don't go to bed together," Max muttered. "I'll help you take a shower and even wipe your back." He looked aroused and asked, "Just wipe your back?" "There is still room for negotiation," Lillian said bewitchingly, "I'm always easy to negotiate." Max stretched out his hand to hold her in his arms, and sighed, "So, I want everything I can get." "Poor man," said Lillian, still smiling, and turned to kiss him. "Remember... some things are worth the wait."