"Dr. Ronan?" Lucy Ansley observed the man's gaze, drowsy from alcohol, and thought he hadn't sobered up yet, her voice growing a bit clearer, "Would you like some tea to sober you up or a hangover soup?"
Henry Ronan blinked and closed his eyes, his voice exceptionally hoarse and seductive as he spoke, "Either is fine."
Perhaps it was because the lighting was too dim, Lucy Ansley felt Dr. Ronan seemed like a different person tonight.
His posture remained elegant, yet laid-back and more relaxed than usual.
Especially those deep black eyes, when opened, emitted a sharpness she had never seen before.
Lucy Ansley was puzzled, doubting if she had seen it wrong.
With such suspicion, she absentmindedly turned around, intending to bring him a bowl of hangover soup.
Perhaps due to overthinking, her mind was unfocused. As Lucy turned, her knee accidentally bumped into the sofa armrest, causing her to stagger slightly. It wasn't a big deal, and she wouldn't have fallen.
