Chapter 45
Arne is dangerous?
If it were anyone else, I might have brushed it off—but if Bambi was saying something like that, it was different. He wasn’t the type to give advice without a reason.
But still…
That strange sense of familiarity I felt every time I was with Arne was something even I couldn’t explain.
And being told not to get close to Arne—at this point, that was impossible. For one thing, he was going to become my son. And I’d already grown far too attached to him. Besides, if Eluise truly thought Arne was dangerous, she wouldn’t have sent him to me in the first place.
After much deliberation, I decided to trust my intuition a little more. Also, Bambi’s words might have meant that Arne himself was in danger. Maybe he’d warned me not to get close because he was worried I’d get dragged into something.
If that were the case…
Then Arne wasn’t someone I should distance myself from—he was someone who needed protection.
By the time most of the bubbles from the bath salts had disappeared, I put on my robe and stepped out of the bathroom.
Almost at the same moment, I spotted Owen.
A man wearing the exact same robe as me, emerging from another bathroom.
When our eyes met, Owen walked toward me at a brisk pace.
“Well, I suppose I can’t tell you to take your time washing anymore, Sophia. I didn’t expect you to take this long.”
…Okay, maybe I had relaxed a bit too much. But there were three bathrooms, after all.
“If not now, then when am I supposed to relax?”
The man in the robe tilted his head.
“You’ll have many opportunities in the future.”
Owen had already come quite close. He reached out and gently fiddled with my fingers, which had become wrinkled from soaking too long in the water.
“Will I?”
“Of course. Especially if you don’t have… other plans.”
His fingertips brushing mine felt softer than usual. Was it because he’d just bathed?
When our eyes met, Owen smiled lazily. I grew a little embarrassed and flustered.
“Oh—right. Where’s Arne?”
“He fell asleep early tonight.”
As he answered, Owen casually touched the ends of my hair, as if he were quite pleased with the news he was delivering.
My damp hair slipped between his fingers.
Sometimes, it really seemed like Owen genuinely liked my hair.
At moments like that, I felt glad I’d met him after regressing. Before the regression, I hated my hair color so much that I’d dyed it constantly.
Owen spoke in a low voice.
“You didn’t dry your hair completely.”
“Y-Yeah…”
“You’ll catch a cold. The farther north we go, the colder the air gets… Would you mind if I dried it for you?”
“Owen?”
I asked in surprise. I’d never seen—or even heard of—a man offering personal attendance like this.
“Yes. If you don’t mind.”
I hesitated for a moment. But while it was unexpected, I didn’t dislike the idea.
When I agreed, Owen guided me into the room.
He even pulled out a chair at the vanity himself, and after I sat down, he carefully pushed it in closer.
His attitude made me want to tease him a little.
“You’re very polite, sir.”
“Isn’t politeness a gentleman’s greatest virtue?”
As he said that, Owen brought a towel from somewhere and stood behind me.
“Just sit comfortably.”
I let out a light laugh. He really did look like he was attending to me.
“What’s gotten into you today?”
“I’ve wanted to do this since the beginning of the journey. It’s not something special about today.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Sophia.”
I had no idea.
Owen definitely wasn’t the type to lie or fabricate things. If anything, he was quite honest.
But honesty and being easy to read were two very different things.
Sometimes, that contrast caught me off guard—like now.
Owen wrapped my hair in the towel, gathered it together, and gently lifted it. My nape was exposed, and it felt pleasantly cool.
Then he softly patted the towel to absorb the remaining moisture.
The entire process was unhurried.
…But he was surprisingly good at it.
“……”
I waited quietly for his hands to continue moving. But Owen didn’t take the next step.
Eventually, I glanced back.
He was bent forward, hands completely still, slowly drawing in a breath.
“Owen…?”
“……”
“Owen, are you feeling unwell?”
“That’s not it.”
The way he denied it so sharply suggested that much was true.
Naturally, there was nothing under a bathrobe. Owen’s face being so close to my bare skin—specifically my exposed nape—made me acutely aware of the distance.
“Then… what is it?”
Instead of answering, Owen smiled faintly and whispered lazily near my ear.
“The bath salts… did you use rose again this time?”
At that voice, the fine hairs near my ear stood on end. It felt like something was lightly tickling me.
And indeed, one of his hands was slowly stroking down the back of my neck.
It was impossibly gentle—so careful it almost felt reverent, yet at the same time strangely provocative.
Owen was wearing a bathrobe just like mine. If the loose knot at his waist came undone, he’d be completely naked. That made his bent posture all the more distracting.
I had no room for idle thoughts like he has a good memory. I was the one who needed to answer now.
“S-Something similar. Rose oil, jasmine, ylang-ylang…”
At that moment, Owen laughed out loud.
His hand slid up from my nape to my ear. With that hand, he gently pushed my head back.
My face tilted upward.
And then—he kissed me.
“!”
Once. Twice. And again.
After tracing my lips several times, he finally applied pressure, drawing in my lower lip.
A tingling sensation made my toes curl on their own.
It felt like I might fall off a cliff—or float up into the air. Like something was about to happen.
Needing something to hold onto, I reached out. When I wrapped my arms around his neck, strong arms immediately supported my back.
The one who stopped things before they went any further was Owen.
It was as abrupt as a galloping horse coming to a sudden halt.
Our lips parted with barely enough space to slip a thread between them. My face was still flushed, and my lips burned with heat.
“……”
My head felt hazy.
Owen didn’t say anything like “I apologize if that offended you.” He knew that wasn’t the case anymore.
Neither of us moved for a while. Then I spoke.
“You said politeness was a gentleman’s virtue.”
“I’ve acquired mitigating circumstances.”
Owen brushed his lips against mine again—far more restrained than before. It felt deliberately held back.
“Mitigating… circumstances?”
Our lips kept grazing each other, making it hard to think clearly, so I spoke as little as possible.
But Owen didn’t hold back.
“Yes. The ingredients you mentioned in those bath salts…”
Lowering his voice, he whispered:
“They all have aphrodisiac effects.”
What?!
Then that means—
I’d soaked my entire body in water infused with those ingredients until my fingers wrinkled?!
I hurriedly pulled away from Owen.
“I didn’t do it on purpose! Absolutely not!”
I’d used them several times before the regression too, and I’d never known anything like that!
Meanwhile, Owen picked up the towel that had fallen to the floor. His expression clearly said that’s a shame.
“Yes, I know. You don’t need such things. Unless you enjoy watching me suffer.”
He grabbed a fresh towel from the vanity. With his other hand, he casually took mine and interlaced our fingers.
Then he pulled my hand toward him and kissed the back of it.
A large man, lips pressed to my hand, looked up at me.
Whenever those wolf-like gray eyes stared at me, I couldn’t help but feel a little tense.
Owen spoke slowly.
“But… it’s not bad. If it’s this kind of suffering, I think I could enjoy it.”
“Then it’s not suffering anymore.”
“That’s true,” Owen replied calmly.
Then he immediately asked,
“Shall you punish me so that I can suffer?”
That was a very strange thing to say. But coming from him—said with such a straight face—it didn’t feel strange at all.
By now, his thumb was gently stroking the inside of my palm, and I found myself at a loss.
Punish him?
I didn’t really know much about that sort of… um, play. And besides—
“There’s no whip or anything here.”
Or restraints, for that matter.
I was being completely serious.
But the moment I finished speaking, Owen covered his face with one large hand.
And then—
As if his legs had suddenly given out, he collapsed right where he stood.
“Owen! Are you okay?”
Oh no. Had he gotten dizzy from bathing too long?
Worried, I stood up and crouched in front of him, then moved the hand covering his face.
Peek-a-boo—revealing a breathtakingly handsome face.
Owen was shaking with laughter.
“What is it?!”
He was still laughing too hard to respond properly. When I glared at him, he finally managed to calm down and spoke haltingly.
“I knew it… from the moment you said you liked leather chokers.”
My face instantly burst into flames.
This man—! He should finish his sentences properly! I specifically said belt-type leather chokers! And it wasn’t like I said it without context!
“Y-You asked for punishment!”
“If that’s what you want… shall I prepare something along those lines next time?”
“No need!”
I snapped back automatically, but then my tutor’s old advice crossed my mind: ‘It’s not good to be too absolute about anything.’
So I added,
“Not right now.”
At my words, Owen bit his lip.
To me, it looked like he was holding back laughter again.
In any case, he stood up and nodded.
“Yes. Not right now.”
