Destined to Be His Ch 17

Chapter 17 Crawling into Bed? 

Rebecca was baffled. What schemes had I played? Why did he always treat me with such disdain? 

Frustrated, she watched as Nathan, ignoring her further, elegantly made his way to a dining seat. He had been working all day, his lunch merely a quick affair. Now, the table still held remnants of Marcus’s earlier meal, not a lavish spread like one might find in a hotel, but it carried the comforting scent of home–cooked food, stirring up an appetite. 

He directed a commanding look at Rebecca, “My dinner. 

Rebecca’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, then understanding dawned, and she retorted with a sarcastic laugh. “Sorry, Mr. Zimmerman, I’m here to take care of Marcus, not to be your chef. I only prepared food for Marcus” 

The implication was clear. There was none for him. 

Humph, as if she’d stoop to cook for him after his earlier attitude! 

Nathan was taken aback. Is she really defying me like this? Good, she’s got nerve. 

“Well then, since that’s the case, go clean the entire villa. No eating or resting until it’s spotless.” 

Ilhat! The villa was a sprawling 5,400 square feet spread over three floors! Is he asking me to clean it all by myself? Rebecca opened her mouth to protest 

Nathan raised an eyebrow, “What? You said you’re here to take care of Marcus, right? He lives here; cleanliness is a must. Do you have a problem with that?” 

His voice carried an implicit pressure. 

Rebecca was speechless. What is this, if not digging my own grave? 

With a pout, she grudgingly grabbed the cleaning supplies and set to work. 

Nathan watched her bustling figure with a slight smirk. Challenging his authority came with consequences. 

He got up and went to the kitchen, taking out some frozen dumplings from the fridge to cook for himself. Back in Duncantow, he had staff to handle meals, but here, he hadn’t yet found help and had to make do with what he could cook or order. 

After dinner, he retreated to his study to clear up some work issues before returning to his room to help Marcus get to bed. 

As for Rebecca, he made sure Marcus didn’t know he had punished her. 

Lying in Nathan’s arms, Marcus’s soft voice asked, “I like her. You won’t let her go, will you?” 

Nathan’s eyes narrowed slightly, his hand comforting on his son’s back. He asked nonchalantly. “Why do you like her?” 

“Because she smells like mommy. 

Nathan’s expression remained unreadable. Clearly, the boy had misplaced his emotional attachment. 

The night air was cool, but Rebecca was far from cold, her body drenched in sweat from her exertions. 

the experienced firsthand what it meant to be at the whims of the wealthy. 

A rooftop pool on the third floor, a gym, a second–floor study, a home cinema, and on the first floor, a living room, a reception area, kitchen, laundry room, and even a garden–this villa had it all. 

After nine hours of relentless cleaning, she finally finished at 4 AM. 

|– 

Chapter 17 Crawling into Bed? 

Finished 

All day she claimed no ulterior motives, used Marcus to get herself invited to stay, and now she couldn’t wait to sneak into his bed 

Crawl into bed? 

If Rebecca knew what he was thinking, she’d have exploded in anger. Climb into bed with him? Ridiculous! 

She was merely checking to make sure Marcus hadn’t kicked off his covers. But what was this man doing here in bed with Marcus? 

Lying there, his features relaxed, his long eyelashes casting shadows even in sleep, he looked every bit the nobleman he was. 

She hadn’t expected him to take his responsibilities as a father so seriously. 

Careful not to wake Marcus. Rebecca tiptoed to the bed to adjust the covers and checked the mosquito repellent before quietly leaving the room, closing the door softly behind her. 

Initially, she had wanted to kiss Marcus goodnight, but with Nathan around, she restrained herself. 

After the door closed, Nathan’s piercing eyes opened, his gaze deep with surprise. 

He had pretended to be asleep to see what Rebecca would do. And all she did was care for Marcus, her gaze never even lingering on me. Is she not the schemer he had imagined? 

Just what kind of woman is the, really