Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 14: Doesn’t Seem Like a Chaebol Heir

"It’s not the first time, why are you so sensitive every time?"

Listening to his words, Claire Shaw’s ears blushed deeply, her slender waist moving unconsciously.

The man pressed against her back, the thin shirt transferring his body heat bit by bit onto Claire.

It was like a flame enveloping Claire, making the atmosphere increasingly ambiguous.

Feeling the change in the man’s body behind her, Claire’s ears silently turned red.

She turned sideways, trying to escape from his embrace, but the hands around her waist tightened their grip.

She frowned and looked at him. The man had taken off his jacket and was wearing just a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular arms that didn’t match his cultured demeanor.

Despite having a face that seemed detached from worldly affairs, his body was brimming with aggressive muscles.

Just like he clearly had the scent of high-end cologne, but now it mixed with a hint of cooking oil.

Yet it was precisely this hint of cooking oil that brought him back to the earthly world.

Sometimes Claire thought he didn’t seem like a typical heir.

Who would have thought someone so noble was filled with such improper thoughts, as he suddenly wrapped his arms around her from behind, "Don’t move, let me catch my breath."

The man’s embrace was hot, his strength overwhelming, making Claire feel suffocated, yet she dared not twist her body recklessly.

She knew well the man’s stamina; once started, it wouldn’t end in less than a couple of hours.

Already hungry, Claire sensibly let him hold her like a rag doll.

A few minutes later, Ethan Blackwood glanced at the red wine glass in her hand, breaking the silence first, "Is it good?"

"To be honest, better than the buy-one-get-three deal at the supermarket for 188."

"You are honest." The man laughed softly, and she could clearly feel the vibration of his chest against her back.

This ambiguous, entangled atmosphere made her feel uncomfortable.

In the past, when they met, they got straight to the point, skipping the flirting step.

She once again tried to break free from his embrace, but the large hand covering her back tightly grasped her wrist, her minor thoughts exposed completely in his eyes.

Releasing her waist, he pinched her slender chin, "We’ve slept together so many times, how come I never noticed you rejecting my touch before?"

Under his deep gaze, Claire changed the subject: "I’m hungry."

Even though the two of them had numerous close encounters, Claire was like a hedgehog, guarding fiercely, both inside and out, not leaving a bit of chance.

Once the restraints loosened, Claire pushed away the tall wall in front of her and walked into the dining room as if no one were there.

And soon Ethan came in, pulling a chair out for her, acting very gentlemanly.

"You don’t seem like the kind to do these things."

The man sat down opposite her, a playful expression on his face, "In your eyes, what should I do?"

"Brutally twist a person’s head off and use it as a stool."

As she said that, Claire gestured with her hand, appearing particularly agile and cute in the candlelight, her eyes bright and crafty.

Ethan’s sharp features softened, and he spoke seriously, "You’re truly humorous; this is a rule-of-law society. Murder and arson are illegal. I’m a law-abiding citizen who never does anything against the rules. Come, taste my... chef’s handiwork."

A rich, distinctive aroma drifted to Claire’s nose, the plate holding slices of porcini mushrooms pan-fried in butter.

Artificial porcini don’t have such a taste; they must have been wild porcini picked from the high mountains, very fresh.

Biting down, it was a unique aroma of post-rain forest soil and herbage, the texture smooth and pleasantly crisp, unattainable with artificial cultivation.

Chewing slowly, the flavor spread silently between her lips and teeth, stirring her appetite greatly.

She hadn’t touched any greasy food at dinner for a long while.

"The porcini was dug out from Caelus’s mountains this morning, and the beef has very low calories, only 125 per 100 grams, so eating more won’t make you fat."

His voice was steady, with deep-set eyes, speaking eloquently, exuding nobility and carrying a bit of noble gentleman’s air. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Claire looked at him, feeling complicated.

When they met last month, she casually mentioned it, and he actually remembered.

When she was dating Owen Crawford, even if Owen loved her deeply, his ingrained male chauvinism was deeply rooted.

Even though he always chased after Claire, the disparity in their statuses made him understand that falling in love with him was inevitable for Claire.

After all, he was the best choice for Claire.

He could cheer her up within reasonable bounds but wouldn’t change his class mindset.

His love was like fallen flowers in running water, superficial, often doing things he thought would move her, but ended up only moving himself.

Claire saw this clearly from the beginning, so she never fell in love with Owen.

Each time Owen took her to various high-end restaurants, ordering many expensive dishes she didn’t like, he attempted to change her dietary preferences.

But Ethan didn’t do that. During the last home visit, the housekeeper specifically brought out low-calorie pastries to entertain her. She thought it was a coincidence.

Now it appears it wasn’t so; that man who seemed rough was actually accommodating her.

Seeing her not picking up her fork and knife, the man looked at her, "What, still want to eat grass?"

Just as Claire was about to respond, they heard a woman’s scream from outside, especially abrupt in the quiet garden.

"Help! There’s a fire!!!"