Chapter 24: You Are Not My Type


    Chapter 24: You Are Not My Type


    Jane had been so engrossed in applying the ointment that she didn''t notice Patrick''s presence. He


    stood there, d in a white bathrobe, which revealed a portion of his well-built chest. The idental


    collision with Jane left his chin aching, causing him to knit his brows.


    Droplets of water dripped from his hair, and his eyebrows and eyshes glistened with moisture.


    Jane found herself captivated by his appearance; she couldn''t deny that he was very handsome.


    "Have you had your fill of gawking?" Patrick teased with a smug smile, pulling her back to reality.


    "When did you get here? You startled me. Quit sneaking around like a thief and get dressed!"


    Jane rubbed her head and turned away, feeling somewhat shy.


    Patrick chuckled and fastened his bathrobe, then gently mocked her, "My chin is hurting because


    you bumped into me. What are you going to do about it?"


    Jane had bumped into him, but she hadn''t expected him toin instead of apologizing.


    "I... I''m going to take a shower," Jane replied, flustered under his prating gaze. She grabbed


    clean clothes and hurried into the bathroom, muttering to herself, "Why did hee out dressed


    like that? Oh, God. Why am I suddenly so sweaty?"


    Staring at Jane as she rushed away, Patrick pondered whether he came across as intimidating.


    Knock! Knock! Knock! Jane was still in the shower when she heard a series of knocks on the


    bathroom door.


    "Who''s there?" she called, her heart racing as she rinsed her face.


    What could it be? Could it be Patrick? He was the only one in the room. What did he want?


    Patrick''s voice came from the other side, "It''s me."


    Jane immediately became cautious. "What do you want? Can''t you see I''m taking a shower? Go


    away!"


    "You dropped something," Patrick said in a low, husky voice.


    "What''s that?" Jane asked as she turned off the shower and wrapped herself in a short bath towel.


    She was skeptical; she didn''t recall dropping anything. Even if she had, couldn''t he wait until she


    finished her shower? What was Patrick up to? He usually behaved with decency, but could he be a


    peeping Tom?


    "Check for yourself," Patrick replied with a knowing smile, holding the item in his hand.


    Jane checked the pile of clothes she had brought into the bathroom. To her dismay, her clean


    underwear was missing. She must have dropped it outside when she was in a hurry. Was that what


    Patrick was holding? She was mortified.


    Jane ran her hand through her hair anxiously, her face flushing red. After some internal struggle,


    she tiptoed to the door, opened it slightly, and peeked out. "I identally dropped it. Hand it over."


    The orange light illuminated her face, making her smooth and tender skin glisten with water droplets


    and turn slightly red. Patrick couldn''t help but stare at her in awe.


    His lips curled into a broad smile as he handed her the underwear. "Be more careful. Don''t drop it


    again."


    "Thank you," Jane mumbled, quickly taking the underwear, her hand briefly brushing against his.


    The electric touch made her cheeks burn. She hastily shut the door, her heart racing.


    Why was she so flustered? It was such an embarrassing situation. Jane regretted agreeing toe


    to this household to please her grandfather. It was clear she was asking for trouble. She took a few


    deep breaths to dispel the inexplicable tension in her heart.


    After her shower, Jane emerged from the bathroom only to find Patrick sitting on the sofa. His legs


    were crossed, and he was absorbed in a financial magazine, his handsome eyes narrowed and


    focused.


    "I''m going to bed," Jane informed him.


    As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how ambiguous they sounded.


    "Is that an invitation?" Patrick asked, his voice dripping with charm.


    Jane was taken aback. How had her straightforward words turned into an invitation? She had


    merely wanted to convey her exhaustion and desire for rest.


    She replied firmly, "Patrick Pansy, stop being narcissistic. We''re only together because of our


    grandfathers. All this will be over in three months. Behave yourself!"


    Narcissistic? Patrick had never been called that by a woman before. A sudden chill reced the


    warmth in his eyes.


    He scrutinized Jane from head to toe, saying, "Don''t tter yourself. You don''t even have a good


    figure. If I wanted to sleep with someone, it wouldn''t be you. You''re not my type. I prefer my women


    to be curvy, sophisticated, and pleasant."


    Jane was taken aback by his critique. She was proud of her curvaceous figure that turned heads.


    "Oh, and you don''t have a good figure either! None of your family members do. You''re all


    unattractive!" she retorted, rolling her eyes at him. She felt like a rabbit who had just had its carrot


    stolen.


    Patrick averted his gaze and said, "I don''t have time for this. I''m going to the study."


    He stood up and left without a backward nce, though he couldn''t get Jane out of his mind. She


    was beautiful, intelligent, confident, and unpretentious, but she wasn''t what he was looking for.


    Têxt ? N?velDrama.Org.


    As he left the room, he was reminded of an incident from when he was thirteen years old.


    "Patrick, your hand is injured. Let me wrap it up for you," a girl with a ponytail, a few years younger


    than him, had said. She held out a handkerchief and skillfully bandaged his wound, tying a beautiful


    bow.


    "Does it hurt?" the girl had asked, revealing her beautiful big eyes.


    Patrick had hugged her and reassured her, "No, it doesn''t. Don''t be scared, Candy. Help wille


    soon; I''m sure of it."


    As he snapped back to reality, he opened a drawer and took out a faded handkerchief. He gazed at


    it for a long moment, wondering where Candy was now and if she was living a good life.


    The following morning, Jane awoke to an empty room. The other side of the bed was cold. Had


    Patrick stayed in the study all night? Jane wondered if she had misjudged him.


    A powerful and handsome man like him must have many admirers. Jane was just a country girl;


    why would he be interested in her when he had better options? Jane was relieved that he wasn''t


    pursuing her romantically; she didn''t want anything toplicate matters.


    Herck of love life was the perfect excuse she could give her grandfather. However, she began to


    feel that this arrangement might lead to trouble.


    While pondering this, Jane hummed a song happily as she got ready for work. She had barely sat at


    her desk for a few minutes when Monica summoned her.


    "What can I do for you?" Jane asked with indifference, weary of Monica''s constant demands and


    maniptions. She couldn''t help but wonder what Monica had in store this time.