The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife novel Chapter 211

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The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire’s Ex–Wife

Chapter 211: Help with Bathing

Angels POV

Despite suspecting he might be exaggerating to keep me close, I can’t ignore the doctor’s warnings about his wound.

“Tine,” Tranceded. “Just tonight.”

Relief washed over his features. “Thank you” –

“Let me check the children first,” I said, slipping away to the adjacent room.

Aria and Ethan were sound asleep, their peaceful faces a stark contra to the terror they’d experienced over the past days. I gently adjusted their blankets before quietly closing the door and returning to Sean’s room.

He looked

up

when I entered. “Are they asleep?”

“They’ve been asleep for hours,” I replied. “They were asking about you earlier. The Mediterranean escape exhausted them.”

rap his arm around me. I’m sorry didn’t find you sooner. You all suffered because of my delay.”

Sean approached, attempting to wrap

I noticed his scent had changed–the expensive cologne replaced by the metallic smell of blood mixed with sweat. The doctor’s description of the deep wound across his abdomen flashed through my mind, and I gently pushed him away.

You should clean up and change these clothes,” I said.

Sean raised an eyebrow. “Can’t stand my smell? Or just put off by how I look?”

“Both,” I answered truthfully.

Considering his injuries would make movement difficult, I walked to his closet and grabbed a robe, handing it to him.

“You’re forgetting something.” Sean called from behind me. “Unless you don’t mind me going commando.”

I felt my cheeks warm, “Where are your underwear?”

“Top drawer.”

Opening it, I found neatly organized rows of expensive underwear. Without looking too closely, I grabbed one pair and quickly shut the drawer, aware of the heat spreading across my face.

Sean’s

soft chuckle behind me only increased my embarrassment.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked, turning around. “Aren’t you going to shower and change?”

He sighed dramatically. “I’m injured.

Won’t y

you help me?”

“You’re injured, not disabled,” I retorted. “Your hands and feet still work perfectly fine.”

Seeing my irritation rising. Sean softened his approach, gently touching my hair. “The doctor said I absolutely can’t get the wo wet. It could cause infection.”

I hesitated, trapped by my own concern for his well–being.

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Chapter 211 Help with Bathing

help with you back. But your to on your rom for the rest.

in the bathroom, sheath curled up from the cat slime 14

brickster. Thept my

He bent to unda his pants, but the movement squeezed the injury.

sharp his escaped his lips, follored by

“Nop,” | and

stopping forward. “Don’t move. 1’11 de it

His eyes met mine, surprised but grateful.

1 knelt, my fingers working carefully at the zipper, easing the fabric then his lege. He stepped out needly, winning with each (shift of his weight.

Then came the hovers. I hesitated, my breath catching as I slid them down and free.

There it was, bold and unapologetic his erection, standing proud and pointing rig

right at m

“Sean?” I yelped, jerking back as my face flamed. “What the hell? Are you serious? Is this on purpose?”

He had the nerve to laugh, a rough, strained sound. “Come on, Angela. I’m a normal grown man. You’re touching me–of course this happens. If I didn’t react, that’s when you should worry.”

I stood, glaring at him, my hands on my hips. “A grown man should have some self–control.”

“Sell–control?” He smirked, leaning against the wall for support. “I don’t get like this for just anyone. Only for someone I love.”

My mouth opened, then closed again. I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t. Instead, I grabbed the washcloth, my movements

“Turn around.”

He obeyed, bracing himself against the sink as I dipped the clath in warm water and began wiping down his back.

I kept my touch light, careful to avoid the edges of his wound. The intimacy of it–the quiet sound of water dripping, the heat of his Uskin under my fingers–felt too familiar, too close.

“There,” I said finally, stepping back. “That’s enough. You can do the rest.”

“What about down there?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder with a

faint grin. “If I bend over, the wound-

“Then tolerate it,” I cut in, already heading for the door. “Figure it out.”

I stepped into the hall, pulling the door shut behind me, but guilt tugged at me almost instantly.

What if he couldn’t manage? What if he got the wound wet?

Sighing, I lingered just outside, raising my voice enough for

h for him to

to hear.

“Sean.