Chapter 172

Here are all single-family villas, and the only one who would park outside is Michael.

Isabella felt an inexplicable tension rising in her heart.

But she didn't stop what she was doing.

Outside the door, Michael got out of the car and was immediately captivated by the aroma of food as he opened the door.

The housekeeper never stays overnight, so the only one at home now is Isabella.

So, she was the one cooking?

Michael felt a surge of joy and quickly made his way through the foyer to the kitchen.

He saw Isabella, wearing a floral apron, busy in front of the stove, with several freshly made dishes beside her.

He could hardly believe what he was seeing.

In his shock, he couldn't help but step closer.

He wanted to touch her, to confirm that everything in front of him was real.

This scene was not the first time he had dreamed of it. After a long day at work, he would come home to find her cooking, and she would sweetly say, "Welcome back."

But when he woke up, there was only an empty bed beside him, no her.

Now, it had all come true.

Just as Michael was about to touch her slender waist, Isabella suddenly turned around and noticed him immediately.

"What are you doing?"

She clearly noticed his action and frowned.

Michael awkwardly withdrew his hand, "I, I just wanted to help you."

Before he could finish his sentence, Isabella handed him a dish, "Fine, take this to the table. I still have a soup to make."

Michael was silent.

The tender moment was gone just like that?

But being able to enjoy the meal she made, he was already very satisfied.

As soon as the dishes were set, Michael was about to start eating when he noticed Isabella staring at him strangely.

"What's wrong?"

He looked down at himself, nothing seemed different.

Isabella was speechless, "Michael, don't you know to change your shoes when you come in? You're still wearing your dress shoes."

Michael then remembered that he had been too excited and ran straight in from outside, forgetting to change.

"Oh, I'll change them right away."

He quickly got up, went to the foyer to get slippers, changed into them, and washed his hands before sitting back down.

Isabella was stunned.

Since when did Michael become so obedient?

Whatever she asked him to do, he did.

So if she asked him to give her custody of the child in the future, would he agree just as readily?

If not, she could come up with an agreement and have him sign it without realizing it.

But Michael wasn't stupid; how could he not see through such a small trick?

Isabella was calculating her plan in her mind, ignoring Michael.

The dining table was silent.

They each ate their own food.

Michael wanted to find a topic to talk to Isabella about, but seeing her biting her utensils as if thinking about something important, he didn't disturb her.

After dinner, Isabella went to the bathroom to take a bath.

Michael, on the other hand, considerately took on the task of washing the dishes.

Sure enough, a man in a good mood is willing to do anything, and Isabella didn't bother to compete with him.

Soaking in a rose bath, Isabella began to think about another important issue.

She urgently wanted a child to reassure Daniel.

But having a child wasn't something she could decide alone, and it had been several days since they last made love, with no sign of anything happening.

She had to speed things up.

Even if she got pregnant, it would still take nine months.

This task couldn't be delayed any longer.

If necessary, she would take the initiative. After all, they had made love before.

If once wasn't enough, then twice. She would try all the positions the doctor taught her. She couldn't believe she wouldn't get pregnant.

To prepare for the passionate night ahead, Isabella carefully washed herself and sprayed on some seductive perfume.

When she came out in her bathrobe, Michael was already in the room.

He was still wearing his white shirt and black pants, but his shirt was unbuttoned a few buttons, exuding the charm and sexual tension of a mature man.

She couldn't imagine how much more attractive he would be when they got to bed.

"Ahem."

Realizing she hadn't done anything yet but was already having naughty thoughts about Michael, Isabella quickly averted her gaze and went to the walk-in closet to change into her nightgown.

She chose a pink camisole dress that was both sweet and sexy.

As soon as she walked out, Michael's fiery gaze fell on her.

He watched her walk to the cabinet, pour two glasses of red wine, and slowly walk towards him, her eyes like hooks, "Such a beautiful night, won't you have a drink?"

Her eyes sparkled, her lips were pink and tender, opening and closing as if silently inviting him.

Especially the alluring scent she exuded.

Just standing there, she had already captivated him.

There was no need for all this.

But he was happy to indulge in this kind of marital fun.

His throat moved, and he took a big step forward to take the glass from her, lightly clinking it with hers, "You're so forward tonight?"

Even knowing she was doing it on purpose, Michael's voice was hoarse.

He was deeply enchanted by her.

Hearing this, Isabella just raised an eyebrow slightly, her pink lips curling into a smile, "What, Mr. Brown doesn't like it? Then maybe we should call it off tonight..."

"Who said I don't like it!"

Before she could finish, Michael interrupted her eagerly.

Isabella's smile deepened.

Just as she was about to tilt her head back to drink the wine, Michael gently held her wrist. She looked up to meet Michael's worried expression and the undisguised desire in his eyes.

"You're trying to conceive, you can't drink."

Unlike Michael, Isabella now felt very awkward, like she was throwing herself at him.

That's why she wanted to drink, otherwise, when would she ever get pregnant?

She gently broke free from him, her voice seductive and coy, "Just one glass, it's not much, it won't harm my body."

Michael didn't stop her again.

Isabella sipped half the glass slowly, seeing him still staring at her, she smiled and asked.

"Michael, aren't you drinking?"

"Yes."

Michael downed his glass in one go, placed the two glasses on the table, and the next second, he scooped her up and threw her onto the bed.

Michael seemed impatient to make love to her, ignoring the fact that he was still wearing his shirt, he kissed her lips fiercely.

The passionate kiss quickly ignited their bodies like a flame.

The alcohol amplified the desire deep within, and Isabella, lying beneath him, couldn't help but moan softly, reaching out to respond.

Michael's breath became heavy, his large hand pushing her nightgown up, staring at her graceful body, with only one thought in his mind.

And that was to make love to her.

He forcefully tore off his shirt, shedding his clothes, and just as he was about to lower his head to kiss her.

A small, pink hand blocked his lips.

Isabella was also feeling uncomfortable, but she still tried to suppress her body's desire, her voice hoarse, "Michael, I want to talk to you!"