Passionate Devotion: Master Fudd's Beloved Wife novel Chapter 296

Of course, if Heaton did give Verian all of his assets then she—who had absolutely no concept of handling money—would have to manage such a large sum. She might not feel happy at all, it would be rather burdensome to her.

Heaton watched her serious face and creased his brows slightly. His expression became solemn too. “Of course I’m serious about this.”

Women liked listening to sweet words. They would be happy even if it was a lie.

Even so, Verian could tell from Heaton’s solemn expression that he was serious about it.

Verian lifted her head and planted a light kiss below his handsome chin.

Her soft lips felt slightly painful and ticklish being poked by the newly grown stubble on his chin. Verian dodged him afterward in response but Heaton wrapped his arms around her waist and rubbed his short stubble against her delicate skin.

It felt itchy and painful so she covered his chin with her hand. “It’s time for you to shave your beard.”

They stayed in the hospital ward in the past few days. On top of that, Heaton still had the burns on his back. Not only that he was unable to shave his beard, but he was also unable to take a shower independently.

Heaton grabbed her soft, delicate hand and put them near his lips to give it a kiss. With a raspy voice, he said, “Will you shave it for me?”

“Alright, but I’ve never shaved someone’s beard before. If I accidentally cut your handsome face… Tsk tsk...”

Verian touched and caressed his chin. She sighed then admired his facial features.

Heaton had a handsome face. However, this type of handsome and exquisiteness was different from what women would describe as ‘beautiful’. He was noble and virtuous. He exuded a matured man’s charm and aristocracy inside out.

Verian felt the utmost important feature of a man was not his looks but his temperament.

Having said that, she felt she was lucky as Heaton was the type of man who had it all. Even if he was only standing—in the most unnoticeable corner, he was still a beautiful scene that would catch people’s attention.

Albeit having a good-looking face, he was not the type who would immediately attract a woman’s attention. This was because he had an aura of superiority—high and mighty. Because of that, ordinary girls would not approach him nor ask for his phone number. To summarize, Heaton’s strikingly good looks were not tacky. What made people compelled to him was his attractiveness did not make him look frivolous but instead, the fact that he exuded a calm and reserved aura.

According to Serene’s description, Heaton was the type of man who was aloof, almighty, and restrained. Every woman who saw him would want to push him into bed and sleep with him but did not dare to do so.

In a nutshell, whenever Verian looked at Heaton, it was as if she saw him with a beauty filter lens. She would always feel that her husband was excellent and perfect in every way.

Perhaps Heaton was too handsome that Verian would sometimes imagine how he would look like when he got old.

“Heaton, let’s say you’re in your sixties or seventies, do you think you’d still be as handsome, tall and charismatic as you are now?”

She was the type who always liked to slouch. She wondered whether her posture would be worse when she was in her sixties or seventies.

At that time, if the old and ugly her stood beside the tall and handsome Heaton, would they not look like such an odd pair?

Heaton looked her straight in the eyes and raised his eyebrows. “I think I’ll still be tall and handsome even when I’m eighty years old. I’ll definitely not let you down.”

“...”

How could he be so narcissistic?

Verian was suddenly unhappy and pouted. “When I’m eighty, I’ll probably be very ugly-looking.”

Heaton gazed at her fair, smooth skin. He then pinched her little dainty cheek with his lanky fingers. “If you become a little old lady, you would be a cute one.”

Verian blushed and glanced at him bashfully. Her heart was sweet as if being lathered with honey.

...

Although it was winter, Heaton had not showered for a few days in a row. He could only wash his face, his legs, and use a piece of wet cloth to wipe his body.

Heaton pulled Verian into the bathroom. Verian held the hot towel and as she was slowly helping Heaton to wipe his back that was not affected by burns, she was being careful to avoid the injured areas.

Looking at the dark scalding on his back, Verian could not help but tear up. “Do you still feel the pain these days?”

Without turning around, Heaton answered her in two words. “It’s alright.”

‘It’s alright? Does that mean that he still feels the pain?’ Verian wondered.