“As expected, you really have good taste, Mr. Rogers!” Vivian complimented him sincerely. “These are
the latest limited–edition shoes from Jimmy Choo, with only two thousand pairs around the globe!”
Kevan was indifferent to her compliment, silently going over to Larissa and getting down on one knee.
What?
Larissa stared at the hair on his head, mouth hanging open from shock. Vivian’s reaction was not any
better than hers. Looking up at the former, Kevan’s expression remained unchanged.
“Your foot.” He held out his hand.
It took a while for Larissa to realize that he wanted her to give him her foot.
“…Let me do it!” She was about to hop down from the high stool but Kevan gripped
her left ankle.
“Don’t move,” he said with a frown of displeasure.
Larissa froze before quietly shifting properly back onto the stool. Then Kevan pulled her foot toward
him.
His fingers were cold against her skin, and the pressure from his fingertips felt as if a thin current was
racing through her body, causing her to quiver and goosebumps to
form..
Kevan removed her slip–on and gradually moved her foot forward. As Larissa was quite tall, her feet
were bigger than the average woman’s–this was also something that she had felt insecure about for
many years. She subconsciously tried to yank her foot back, but Kevan stopped her.
“Don’t move,” he repeated, his displeasure more pronounced than ever.
Larissa bit her lip, her face as red as a tomato–thank goodness the foundation covered it up so it
wasn’t that obvious. Kevan’s finger drifted down and turned to grip her slightly calloused heel.
“Mr. Rogers…” she whispered very softly, abashed.
“Mm?” Kevan responded while placing her foot on his knee, which shocked Larissa further.
Did he not…think that it was nasty?!
“It’s…not sanitary…” She curled her toes.
Hearing this, Kevan stared at her foot seriously for quite a while–Maybe it was due to long periods of
being wrapped in stockings and leather shoes, but the skin of her feet was fairer than her arms.
Moreover, despite having been cooped up in her shoes for so long, they did not look sweaty or smell
nasty.
“Where?” he asked her in response.
The way he spoke so seriously somehow shut Larissa up. She did not know how to answer and could
only stare at him. Getting no answer from her, Kevan looked away and removed one shoe from the
box, carefully putting it onto her foot.
After that, he pressed on the space at the toe of the shoe and asked, “Does it fit?”
When his fingers left her heel, that feeling of coldness went with it. Larissa felt a strange sense of relief
once that happened.
She said, “I’ll have to be on my feet to be able to tell.”
“Very well,” Kevan said but reached out for her other foot. In a similar manner, he put on the other shoe
for her. Then he got up and held out his arm for her. “Try walking and see.”
Larissa hesitated for two seconds before using the proffered arm to step down from he high stool. The
moment she was on her feet, she let go, which caused Kevan’s -yes to narrow.
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