Marrying my secret admirer after my husband's fake death novel Chapter 185

Edith blinked in surprise. “Together?”

Justin arched an eyebrow, his tone casual. “Is that so strange? We’re married. What’s the problem with taking a bath together?”

He made it sound so matter–of–fact, but Edith couldn’t help feeling a little awkward

about it.

She rose slowly, making her way toward the bathroom.

Justin, apparently running out of patience, took her hand and led her quickly to the bathtub.

She stood stiffly by the edge. The tub was already filled, rose petals scattered across the water. A delicate floral scent drifted up, enveloping her senses.

Justin looked her up and down.

She was still wearing what she’d had on all day–a plain T–shirt and dark jeans. She looked almost like a college freshman who’d just finished her finals, the innocence still bright in her eyes.

Something about her in that moment was utterly captivating.

Justin smirked, teasing, “You really like that outfit? Planning to never take it off?”

Edith glanced down, realizing her clothes were streaked with paint. They were filthy.

Afraid he’d misunderstand, she hurriedly started to take off her shirt. But as soon as her hands touched the hem, she hesitated, glancing up at Justin, uncertain. Her awkwardness made him grin.

“What is it can’t bear to part with your clothes, or just don’t want to undress in front

of me?”

She shook her head quickly. “Neither.”

Justin took a step closer, shrinking the distance between them until he was standing right in front of her.

“Then what is it?” His voice was gentle, almost tender, sending a ripple through her chest.

Edith had never been much good at hiding things from him. She blurted out honestly, “I just… feel shy undressing in front of you.”

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Chapter 185

Justin nodded, then switched the harsh bathroom lights to a warm, golden glow.

“How about now? Is this any better?”

Edith nodded, relaxing a little. “Yeah, a bit.”

Taking her answer as permission, Justin moved in to help, lifting her T–shirt over her

head.

She was still embarrassed and took a step back, pulling the shirt off herself in one quick motion. “I can manage,” she mumbled.

The golden light spilled over her, casting a soft blush across her skin.

Justin’s breath caught, but he tried to keep his composure. “Jeans too.”

With a nervous furrow of her brow, Edith undid the button on her jeans. She was slim, but the close–fitting denim clung stubbornly to her legs, making her bend down and wiggle out of them.

Arms crossed over her chest, she stood there, feeling exposed.

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