Seize His Little Wife

Baird Lane gave a low chuckle, “May.”

“Come on then.” Christine White offered to take his arm.

Baird Lane looked away and his heart skipped a beat.

He realized that she was being more forthcoming with him now.

He would offer to take his shoulder, and would offer to tell people something about their uncommon relationship, and now he’s just taking his arm.

Did she have another agenda in mind when she made these moves that were so easy to misunderstand, or did she have that kind of mind for him?

Baird Lane pursed his thin lips, unable to figure out what was really going on in the mind of the woman beside him, or how to ask.

And she made all kinds of intimate gestures towards him, which, by all rights, he should have avoided, or even stayed away from her, after all, he was always a married man.

But even though he thought so in his heart, when he really wanted to do it, he actually realized that he couldn’t do it.

Because he had to admit that he was liking her proximity.

Realizing this, Baird Lane’s pace slowed.

Earlier at the villa, he had suspected that he had gotten too attached to Christine Camp because he had fallen for her.

But then he forced the thought down, thinking that was impossible, how could he like someone so soon, and a woman who looked just like Christine White.

But now, Christine Camp’s proximity made him feel the beat of his heart clearly, a beat that was joyous, joyful, and relaxing.

And what’s a heartbeat of that frequency that isn’t a favorite?

“Baird, what are you gawking at again?” Christine White couldn’t help but wave her hand in front of his face when she saw the man beside her stop and walk, her expression still so fickle.

Baird Lane snapped back to his senses and subconsciously reached out and caught her swinging hand in his.

Her hand was scratched painfully and Christine White’s brow furrowed as she pouted, “Baird what are you doing?”

Baird Lane then reacted to the force he had used and quickly released his hand, “Sorry, is it hurt?”

Christine White beamed and lifted her hand to his eyes, “You tell me, it’s all red.”

Baird Lane lowered his eyes to see that the back of her white hand was indeed red and had a few fingerprints on it, showing how much force he had just used.

“I’m sorry.” Baird Lane felt a little guilty inside.

He didn’t do it on purpose, he just felt something flashing in front of his eyes when he came back to his senses, then grabbed it out of habit, not realizing it was actually her hand.

“What’s the point of saying I’m sorry, my hands are already red from your scratches.” Christine White grunted in dissatisfaction.

Baird Lane looked at her and was reticent for two seconds before he spoke up and asked, “Why don’t I buy you something as a reparation?”

“I don’t want it, you already bought me a bag.”

“So what do you want to do?” Baird Lane asked again.

Christine White looked at him with a grin, “It’s easy, just blow on it for me.”

“Blow on it?” Baird Lane froze.

Christine White nodded, “Yeah, isn’t that what they say, where it hurts, all you have to do is blow on it, so I want you to blow on it for me.”

Baird Lane wrinkled his brow, “How does it blow?”

“It’s easy, just blow a few breaths into my hand where it’s red.” Christine White moved the back of her hand to the heel of his mouth.

Baird Lane looked at the back of her faded hand, the fingerprints he’d left behind, and after a moment’s hesitation, he blew on it a few times with a flick of his thin lips.

“Is that okay?” He asked, but in his mind he was a little weirded out.

He’d never done that for anyone before.

It’s kinda fresh though.

“Barely.” Christine White swept the back of her hand and smiled back before she was ready to put her hand down.

But Baird Lane suddenly grabbed her by the wrist.

Only this time he did it gently, without using much force.

“What’s wrong?” Christine White looked at Baird Lane in disbelief, not understanding what he was grabbing her for again.

Are you addicted to scratching?

Baird Lane didn’t answer Christine White’s words, only narrowed his eyes and turned her hand over and over, looking grave when he was done.

Sure enough, it hadn’t just been him, and it wasn’t the lighting.

The skin color on her hands is really uneven.

“Are you sick with something?” Baird Lane asked suddenly.

Christine White raised an eyebrow, “What?”

Baird Lane held her wrist up to herself, “The skin on the back of your hand, is a little darker than the skin on your wrist, and although you can’t see it without a closer look, it does look that way, so I’m asking you if you’re sick with something?”

Christine White’s pupils shrunk when she heard these words, and her whole body, as if in shock, pulled her wrist out of his hand with great force, then hurriedly hid her hand behind her back and took a step back, pulling away from him, and also slightly lowering her head, lest she be seen again by him to have a problem with the coloration on her face or neck.

Christine White’s heart was drumming with chagrin.

Chagrined at herself for dangling her hand in front of him, how else could he see that she had a color difference in the skin tone of her hand.

Yes, Baird Lane wasn’t wrong, the skin tone on the back of her hands was, indeed, a bit darker than that of her wrists, and not only that, but her neck and her face were likewise, only that it was not visible because she had covered them with foundation.

Although Dr. Pitre’s research on human simulated skin is successful, but everyone’s skin color is different, simulated skin can not really be exactly the same as the patient’s skin, at most, it is infinitely close, and then wait for the simulated skin to be slowly accepted by the body’s cells, and when the acceptance of the end of the simulated skin skin skin color will become the same as the original skin.

But this is something that takes a time over Land, usually two or three years.

She was given simulated skin grafts for her hands the year before, so the simulated skin hadn’t been accepted by the cells that quickly, so there was still the issue of the skin color difference, but to her surprise, it was actually picked up by Baird Lane.

It was her carelessness.

“What’s wrong with you? Is everything okay?” Baird Lane panicked slightly at the sight of Christine White avoiding herself like a frightened deer.

She looked like this, he realized, when he had remarked on the different skin color of the backs of her hands.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

Does this mean that he said the wrong thing and shouldn’t have asked the question?

At that thought, Baird Lane’s thin lips twitched as he opened his mouth to apologize.

Christine White suddenly lifted her head and waved her hand with a forced smile, “It’s okay, you didn’t mean it, I just remembered some bad memories, that’s why I’m like this.”

“Bad memories?” Baird Lane’s gaze fell to the back of her hand, “Something to do with the color of the skin on the back of your hand right?”

Christine White lowered her eyelids to hide the coldness and hatred in her eyes, and gently nodded her head, “That’s right, you just asked me if the reason why the skin color on the back of my hand was different was because I was sick, I’m answering you now, I wasn’t sick, but rather, I was victimized by someone who got hurt, which resulted in the loss of the original skin on the back of my hand, and then the new skin that was re-grafted. ”

A huge shudder ran through Baird Lane’s mind.

I can’t believe it’s going to be like this!

She’s not sick, she’s implanted!

“By someone?” Baird Lane murmured those four words softly, then suddenly thought of something and looked solemn, “Was it an enemy you used to tell me about, who did this to you?”

Christine White hmmm’d, “Yeah, that’s what I call a hater.”

Lu Han’s drooping hands slowly clenched up, and in his heart, a majestic anger surged against the enemy she spoke of.

He couldn’t understand what kind of enemy would do such a heartless thing to her!

“Are there any other injuries besides your hands?” Baird Lane asked in as soft a tone as he could manage.