The towel was still giving off steam.
Holding that steaming towel, he walked over to the bed, sat down, and started wiping Scarlett Yates's face with it.
As he wiped, he lifted his long, narrow eyes to look at her. Seeing the confusion written all over her face, he took the initiative to explain, "Your face is covered in sweat and tears, all sticky. It can't be comfortable to sleep like that. Wipe it clean and then go back to sleep."
Scarlett's eyes widened, like she had swallowed a whole egg in one gulp and that egg was now stuck in her throat, her eyes round and huge.
She stared at Matthew Saxon in shock, feeling like he was getting more and more attentive.
Before being with him, she'd never imagined he could take care of someone like this.
From childhood he'd lived a life of privilege, used to being waited on. Who knew where he'd learned this whole set of skills.
