Looking into Nathan Moore's clearly distressed eyes, she said, "Nathan Moore, can I trust you?"
"Yes." He said the word with conviction, mirroring the resolute expression on his handsome face and in his eyes.
Titus Zane let out a breath, "Come in."
It was already late autumn, nearly winter. After coming back, she sat on the sofa, lost in thought, and forgot to turn on the air conditioning.
At this moment, Titus Zane was holding Nathan Moore's hand, which was ice cold. Nathan gripped her fingers tighter and, as they reached the living room, even wrapped Titus Zane's hands in his own, bringing them to his lips to gently breathe warm air on them.
His furrowed brow was a sign of his reproach, "How can you not take better care of yourself? Women are the most vulnerable to the cold."
Though her mood was quite down just a moment ago, she inevitably felt warmth in her heart due to someone's care. Titus Zane smiled and said, "Aren't you warming me up now?"
