Marry Ex's Billionaire Uncle After Divorce (Aurora and Jasper) novel Chapter 228

Chapter 193: The Massage

(Aurora’s POV)

It did sound reasonable. Technically. On the surface.

I reached for the robe.

(Aurora’s POV)

“Turn around,” I said.

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Phineas turned without argument. I pulled myself up out of the water, grabbed the towel from the rack, and

dried my back as quickly and carefully as I could. Then I stretched out face–down on the lounger beside

the pool, rested my cheek on my forearm, and told him he could turn back.

He did.

His gaze landed on my back, and I watched his throat move – a single, slow shift. When he spoke, his voice

had dropped half a register.

“Where does it hurt most?”

“Shoulders. And the middle – just below the shoulder blades.”

He picked up the small bottle of oil from the edge of the pool. Rose, faintly sweet. He warmed it between

his palms before he touched me, and when his hands settled against my lower back the heat went straight

through my skin.

He started properly. Thumbs tracking the line of muscle along my spine, pressure measured and

deliberate. It hurt in the good way – the kind that meant something was finally unknotting.

“Harder,” I said, muffled against my arm.

He laughed, low and quiet. “As you like, darling.”

The word slipped out like it belonged there. Completely casual. Entirely natural.

My ears went hot.

His hands didn’t stay so careful after that. His thumbs worked lower, tracing the curve of my waist, and his breath was warm against my skin. Something pulled loose in my chest – I made a sound before I could stop it, small and involuntary.

He paused.

“Comfortable?” he asked, and his voice was very close.

“I’m – yes, that’s-”

His lips touched my waist. Just once, just lightly, but the contact shot straight up my spine. Then again, higher. Then again. His mouth moved up my back one slow inch at a time, and I couldn’t make myself say

< Chapter 193 The Massage

stop, couldn’t make myself want to, and then his teeth caught my earlobe and he murmured against it, “Your body is considerably more honest than your mouth.”

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I couldn’t speak. My face was burning. My entire body had gone soft in a way that had nothing to do with

the massage.

He tilted my chin up with two fingers, and I let him. His mouth found mine, and I stopped thinking about

anything at all.

Several minutes passed. I’m not sure how many.

When he finally pulled back, I was looking at him through what felt like fog. He wrapped the towel around

me with the same calm efficiency he brought to everything, gathered me up, and carried me back to the

bedroom.

I rode with my cheek against his shoulder, too warm and too loose to protest the carrying. And

somewhere in that comfortable silence, a thought surfaced.

That man knew exactly what he was doing. Every movement, every point of pressure, every deliberate

pause – it was all too practiced, too sure. He’d told me there was something wrong with him. That there

were things he couldn’t do.

I stared at the ceiling of the bedroom after he set me down, and the thought settled into something

quieter and more persistent.

Was that actually true?

I filed the question away somewhere I’d have to look at later.

The wedding invitations were stacked on the table when I came out of the bedroom. A neat pile, thick cream paper, gold lettering. I picked one up and turned it over in my hands.

They were beautiful. Of course they were. Everything Phineas arranged was like this – precise, considered, nothing left to chance.

I set it back down and stood there for a moment.

Who was I going to invite?

In university, I’d worked two part–time jobs while keeping up with coursework. I hadn’t had the bandwidth for friendships that needed tending. After that came Jasper, and Rosalind, and years of a life that circled inward until the social circle I’d once had simply ceased to exist.

I thought about it for a long time. The list didn’t grow.

Leo. That was it.

I picked up my phone and typed out a message the date, the location, a simple invitation. Then I sent it

before I could overthink it.

He didn’t reply immediately. I didn’t expect him to.

< Chapter 193 The Massage

What I didn’t know was what he was doing instead.

About a week later, Mr. Zimmer called.

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I didn’t recognize the number at first. He introduced himself as Leo’s homeroom teacher, apologized for calling on a weekend, and then told me, carefully and with obvious concern, that Leo had been distracted

in class. His grades hadn’t dropped yet, but he’d been leaving campus every afternoon after the last bell

rather than returning to the dormitory. He’d been seen at the internet café down the street. Multiple times.

I thanked him, hung up, and called Leo to tell him I was picking him up on Saturday.

When I saw him, I didn’t say anything right away. I just looked.

The shadows under his eyes were dark enough to be visible from across the room. He’d lost weight since

I’d last seen him – not dramatically, but enough that I noticed.

I was about to ask him what was going on when he reached into his bag and pulled out a small box. He

set it on the table in front of me and pushed it toward me without quite meeting my eyes.

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