Upon hearing this, Valentine Teller was shocked and dismayed. Had she made it that obvious?
She had always buried her feelings for him deep in her heart, yet he discovered them.
No, she couldn't admit it, she'd never admit it, not even if it killed her.
She didn't like him, she didn't!
Valentine's body stiffened briefly, but she quickly returned to normal, clenching her fists, her palms sweaty.
Keeping her emotions in check, she smiled seductively: "Mr. Reed, you're feeling a bit too self-important, aren't you? Do you think all the women in the world love you? How naive and laughable. You're in your thirties, aren't you? How could you have such strange thoughts that don't match your age!"
"Ha, do you think denying it will cover it up?" Though Valentine's sarcastic jabs were sharp, Mark Reed wasn't angry. He continued to smile: "I don't know about others, but you, I'm very clear on—you like me, and that's something you can't fake."
