When Isabella Weaver got ho, her eyes were still red, and her lips were red too.
Harry Hunter carried her out of the car, and seeing her eyes so red, he couldn’t bear to let her walk and carried her straight to the bedroom.
Isabella lay on the bed, pulling his hand over to massage it.
Harry was montarily confused, "What’s wrong?"
"Didn’t you say your hand was sore at noon? Let massage it for you."
Harry’s heart instantly lted into a pool of tenderness. Even though she cried till her eyes were red, she still rembered his sore hand, never forgetting to be considerate of him.
"It doesn’t hurt anymore, I’m a man, I’m not that delicate."
"But I still feel sorry for you."
Isabella gently kissed his fingers by her lips, then nestled into his arms, feeling at ease and content.
Harry held her, talking to her, telling her funny little stories from the company, coaxing her into a good mood.
When she finally laughed brightly, he carried her to the bathroom, wet a towel, and wiped her face.
He cleaned her up well, pecked her lips, then carried her downstairs for dinner.
Isabella, starving, slled the aroma of food and thought she was hallucinating from hunger, "How co I sll whitebait?"
Harry chuckled, tapping her forehead, "Your nose is really keen, are you a little dog?"
Isabella was shocked, "Didn’t you say you couldn’t find whitebait to buy?"
"Indeed, it wasn’t bought."
"Then where did it co from?"
"I sent soone in a helicopter to Mount Verity to catch it fresh."
Isabella was so astonished her jaw nearly dropped; his efficiency and execution were just too high!
"Didn’t I say I didn’t want it anymore? A helicopter... Oh my gosh, just for so fish, the cost is too high. Wait, when did you order soone to catch the fish?"
"Just one minute after you said you wanted to eat whitebait, I sent the ssage."
Isabella was nearly fainting; he truly pampered her to no limits!
Is this really okay?
Aren’t you afraid of spoiling her?
Wait!
The whitebait was brought ho quickly by helicopter, but the one cooking it...
Isabella let go of Harry and hurriedly ran into the kitchen.
A familiar figure stood by the gas stove, holding chopsticks with a piece of golden fried whitebait, beaming at her, "Hi, Isabella, we et again! Want so fish?"
"Oh my gosh! You really ca! Harry has gone crazy!"
Isabella cried and laughed, running over to hug Zoe Lewis, then turned around to hug Harry, "You, you, you..."
She stamred on ’you’ for a while, unable to form a complete sentence, tears of joy streaming down her face, wondering why she was crying so happily, why happy tears were falling like this.
Harry embraced her, seeing her happy, finally feeling that being the Young Master of the Hunter Family was sowhat aningful.
Being able to fulfill her small wish of eating fish, his mood was great.
Harry wiped her tears and gently nudged her, "Go eat, the chef is soone you know, and you get along well, you might enjoy the al even more."
Isabella stood a bit apologetically next to Zoe, "Sorry for the trouble again, eat more fish!"
Zoe winked at her playfully, "It’s no trouble, I might be the first chef to serve by helicopter! The treatnt, it’s high!"
Harry had already left, deliberately leaving the space for the two of them to talk.
Zoe was actually a bit afraid of Harry; only after he left did she truly let out a sigh of relief, "Your husband has such a strong presence, he scared so much I couldn’t even fry the fish right."
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