The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1932

Roger was startled by her sudden tears. He pulled back the blanket and pressed his palm against her forehead.

No fever.

Stella kept crying, looking more and more heartbroken.

"Scared of the thunder?" Roger pulled her up, hesitating for a second before asking tentatively, "Do you want me to hold you?"

Stella stared at him, biting her pale lips, sobbing softly.

"Come here." Roger felt his heart clench. Without waiting for her to agree, he scooped her and the blanket into his arms, gently patting the back of her head, his voice soothing. "It's okay. I'm here."

Stella rested her cheek against his shoulder. His scent, mixed with the smell of hospital sanitizer, surrounded her. Her trembling body slowly calmed down.

Looking at the girl in his arms, Roger remembered the jagged scars on her body.

Maybe that was why she kept rejecting him.

He had been waiting all this time for her to open up to him.

No matter what kind of past she had, he didn't care.

"Go to sleep." Roger lowered his head, gently rubbing his jaw against her forehead. His deep, magnetic voice offered an incredible sense of security on this terrifying, stormy night.

The night deepened.

...

When she opened her eyes again, the rain had stopped, and the sky was bright.

Feeling a weight around her, Stella blinked open her eyes and was met with Roger's calm, striking sleeping face.

Looking at the man in front of her, Stella's heart skipped a beat, and her mind instantly cleared.

She tried hard to remember what happened last night.

She remembered the storm, being scared, and then Roger coming over to hold her.

And then... this.

Roger wasn't fully in the bed. He was leaning against the wall, holding her, using the blanket to keep her warm and separated in a remarkably gentlemanly way.

His back injury hadn't healed, so maintaining this posture all night couldn't have been comfortable.

Stella tried to slip out of his arms, but no matter how light her movements were, she woke him up.

"Morning." Seeing the groggy man, Stella pushed back slightly, her cheeks flushed.

"Morning." Roger looked at her, not bringing up the events of the previous night. "Our flight is at three this afternoon. Someone will bring our luggage over shortly."

"Okay." Stella stood up, sneaking a glance at him, looking worried. "Would it help if I supported you?"

Roger tried to stand up, but after sleeping in that stiff position all night, he couldn't move.

His face turned darker than the bottom of a pot.

It wasn't his back that was hurt; it was his pride as a man.

"Yeah," Roger replied in a low voice, adjusting his posture with her help.

"I'll go check on the luggage." Stella pressed her lips together and turned to leave.

The next second, the man suddenly grabbed her wrist. Before she could react, she crashed into his chest.

Roger held her petite frame securely, his voice hoarse.

"Give me a chance, Stella!"