Chapter 12: Your Body Speaks the Truth

Giselle Lambert quickly pushed him away, “You were too rough last night, and it hurt. We can’t tonight.” Henry Jefferson paused for a moment, then without a word, he pulled down her trousers to inspect the injury. It was indeed swollen and red, looking pitifully tender. He had lost his temper the previous evening, his actions driven by sheer frustration. Touching the sore spot with a gentle caress, he stood and said, “I’ll get some ointment.” Relieved, Giselle patted her chest and took a deep breath. Fortunately, she had managed to stop him; it was crucial not to be sidelined before tomorrow afternoon’s competition. No sooner had she fixed her trousers than Henry returned with the ointment. He sat on the couch and instructed, “Come here, let me apply it.” “I can manage it myself.” Running out of patience, Henry lifted her effortlessly and set her down on the couch, positioning her legs apart. Giselle felt an abrupt chill, her face buried in a cushion from sheer embarrassment.