How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband

"Hey Greta, looks like we're practically the same shoe size. Why don't you take my flip-flops home with you?"

Greta didn't respond immediately.

Morwenna, worried that Greta was concerned about leaving her barefoot, quickly added, "You know, I spent my childhood running around barefoot in the countryside, wading through streams, and climbing hills without any trouble. It's not far back to the dorm from here. I can walk back barefoot, no problem at all."

But Greta wasn't concerned about that. It was just her nature; she never took anything from anyone without giving back much more in return. That's why people in the Rosefrost Hollow clique were always eager to do her favors, scheming to create opportunities to give her things. But no one had ever dared to offer Greta their used flip-flops.

The eldest daughter of the Irons family wearing someone else's cast-offs? Unthinkable.

However, after a brief pause, Greta slipped on Morwenna's flip-flops, saying, "Thanks, then. I'll head off now. Bye."

Morwenna waved with a smile, "Bye, take care, Greta."

As Greta walked away, she did so with elegance, even in borrowed flip-flops.NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

After seeing Greta off, Morwenna hurried back to the dorm.

The night owls of the dorm were all doing their own thing, and Morwenna quietly let Keira know she was back.

She only had that one pair of flip-flops, so she rinsed her feet and made do with her old sandals.

She was running a bit late today, and just as she finished up and hadn't yet climbed into bed, her phone buzzed with a call from Stuart.

Scrambling onto her bed, she accidentally banged her arm against the bed frame and winced in pain.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just bumped my arm."

"Don't rush, I can wait," he said gently.

Morwenna felt her cheeks warm. "Okay."

She settled in and drew the curtains closed.

Stuart began reading an English story, and Morwenna picked up her knitting, working on a sweater.

The fine cashmere yarn would

become a man's

ch filled with Morwen fater,

tender affection.

Tonight's story was a fairy tale.

to

But Stuart's lazy, mature voice made Morwenna's mind wander. She could easily picture him, lounging back in his chair, certainly not all buttoned up, a playful glint in his eye

Morwenna's thoughts drifted to the things Greta had taught her, and she couldn't help but fantasize.

Listening to Stuart's voice, she

imagined unbuttoning his shirt,.

biting his storytelling lips, hold

page-turning hands.

She felt if this went on any longer, she'd be in trouble.

His voice, through the phone, seemed to beckon her.

Morwenna had always found Stuart irresistibly charming.

Hearing Greta's advice only fueled her daydreams.

Swallowing hard, Morwenna blurted out, "Uncle."

Stuart stopped, his voice now husky from reading, "What's up?"

Startled back to reality, Morwenna stammered, "No... nothing..."

his

Stuart chuckled softly, his laugh now sounding even more beguiling.

"Uncle, I... I'm going to sleep, goodnight."

"Alright, goodnight."

Morwenna hung up as if fleeing, taking deep breaths, her hands covering her face.

Then she noticed the sweater she'd been knitting had several dropped stitches.

Sighing, she realized she'd have to unravel and start over.

Stuart was indeed a charmer!

Even over the phone, he had a way of bewitching her.