Atra Blanc glared, about to get angry, when Clyde Summers quickly grabbed her hand and said, "Don't make a sound, listen carefully, is it my imitation of a cat's meow?"
Atra, blushing, tried to pull her hand back, but her strength was no match for his. Clyde held her hand tightly, pressing it against his lips—
Her hand was firmly held, and she could vaguely feel the outline of his lips through her palm. His warm breath spread over her hand, both itchy and hot, making her terribly embarrassed.
She could not break free, so she could only bite her lip and glare at him in shame and annoyance.
He provocatively winked at her, raising an eyebrow. His odd, comical expression was both infuriating and irresistibly amusing.
What a rogue.
With her face flushed, Atra turned her head away, refusing to look at him.
Faintly, a soft cat's meow was heard, and Atra instantly held her breath.
