Why the Crocodile Tears (by Flower Sock) novel Chapter 567

Anathea opened the door to find Dayanna standing there with a warm smile.

“It’s just about dinner time,” she said. “I had the chef prepare something for you two and asked them to send it up for you.”

Anathea was a little surprised but didn’t decline. “Thank you, Mrs. Presgrave.”

“You’re welcome,” Dayanna said with a wink. “Enjoy yourselves.

Anathea didn’t quite catch the meaning behind that look, but before she could ask, Dayanna had already left.

Soon after, the chef arrived, pushing a cart filled with an assortment of beautifully plated dishes. He briefly explained each item as he set the plates down.

At the time, Anathea was busy texting Dominic about a contract. She didn’t catch everything the chef said and nodded absentmindedly.

Once the chef left, she realized she was actually quite hungry. She took a bite of the fish, then tried a spoonful of the soup. It was light, subtly sweet, but with an odd herbal note she couldn’t quite place. Still, it tasted good.

As she glanced at the contract Dominic had sent; she sipped the soup from her small bowl, which gradually emptied.

When Gregory came out of the shower, he saw Anathea sitting at the table, resting her chin on one hand. Though the table was full, she hadn’t touched much else beyond the soup.

“What’s wrong? Doesn’t suit your taste?” he asked, walking over.

Anathea looked up at him.

He paused, noticing the faint flush on her pale cheeks. “Are you feeling okay?”

Reaching out, he tried to feel her forehead, but Anathea caught his wrist. Even her grip was warm.

“I feel hot,” she muttered.

“Hot?” he asked, taken aback.

Gregory glanced at the air conditioner. It was set to a comfortable 73°F.

He then noticed the nearly empty soup bowl in front of her. Picking it up, he brought it to his nose and sniffed. A subtle medicinal scent lingered. His expression shifted, as if something clicked.

“Did the chef tell you not to drink all the soup at once?” he asked, crouching to meet her gaze.

Anathea felt lightheaded. Her body was warm, almost like she was tipsy. “I don’t remember,” she murmured.

Gregory smiled helplessly and gently pinched her cheek. “You don’t remember? Has your memory gotten that bad?”

“Hey, that hurts,” she grumbled, batting his hand away weakly.

Gregory went quiet, momentarily thrown off by how she looked. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shimmered with a hint of allure. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Annie, you really know how to get under my skin,” he said helplessly, reaching out his hand.

“What are you doing?” Despite the heat radiating through her, her guard was still up. She leaned back instinctively, nearly toppling off her chair.

Gregory was quick. He caught her by the waist and lifted her effortlessly into his arms.

“Let go!” she protested, raising her hands to push him away—but strangely, she couldn’t exert any strength, and her resistance softened into something almost inviting.

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