Marry Me Twice (Kennedy and Charlotte) novel Chapter 23

It was a pair of hands, warm and strong, that firmly held up Charlotte as she fell.

Everything seemingly turned quiet for a while, when brightness gradually returned to her eyes against her terribly pale face.

The straight and sinewy legs came into her sight, leading her to the face of the rescuer above her.

It was a man with deep eyes, cold and sharp eyebrows, pursed lips, exuding hostility in the air. Though sitting on a wheelchair, he possessed a natural imposing manner that seemed strong enough to overwhelm all around him.

The crowd couldn’t help but step backward as they stood in awe of him, looking at the unexpected arrival with astonishment.

Who was he?!

Faint and transfixed, Charlotte was sitting there, staring up at Kennedy Moore, who kept holding her up.

“You ... you’re still here?”

She thought that he should have left due to her looked bad in those dresses, but it turned out that he didn’t.

“Won’t you get up?” His pitch-black eyes focused on her, as he asked in a low voice.

The words brought Charlotte back to earth. Just as she intended to stand up following his gesture, a burst of tearing sound came from below - the dress with embroidered skirts, which was heavy enough to strip her off in public if she proceeded.

“Oh, no.”

With a deep frown and unpleasant eyes, Kennedy was glued to her.

Charlotte bit her lower lip and spoke in embarrassment, “The skirt ... the skirt will fall off, and it’ll be revealing.”

Kennedy narrowed his eyes, sizing her up.

She felt herself a complete loser. How humiliated she was at this time! Would Kennedy turn his back on her and leave?

As she was pondering, she was covered by a jacket. Surprised, she raised her head, her frightened eyes greeted by his.

“You ...”

“Won’t you get up?”

Charlotte squared herself with his suit jacket on, and stood up with the help of his support.

His hands were thick and warm, injecting from the palms some sort of impetus and sweetness right into her heart, which faded away and left a sense of loss in her as they were retracted after Charlotte stood on her feet.

But she was enveloped by a pleasantly strong masculine scent on the jacket, dispelling her nervousness and anxiety, giving her a feeling that she was not alone.

For the first time in so many years, she felt she was being protected by someone.

“Who pushed her down?”

The man’s voice was as cold and harsh as water cutting through stones deep in the mountains.