Delphine's body stiffened slightly as the man's moist and warm kiss descended from her forehead to her pale, thin lips, lingering in a restrained deep kiss.
She closed her eyes, her curled lashes trembling faintly. Her fingers gripped the brocade quilt beneath her, and with slight force, she pushed him away.
The man's breath was heavy. He held her slender waist firmly, refusing to let go, and said in a low voice, "Isaac has many people taking care of him."
Griffith Squire challenged her arrogantly, ignoring everyone else. Someone schemed against her right under his nose. She, pale-faced, defended Leah, and the man saw it all, his heart a mix of shock and anger.
She didn't trust him; the only ones she cared about were the Squire siblings. Her attitude toward him had always been indifferent, even colder than how she treated Reginald Yeager.
The more he dwelled on it, the darker his eyes grew, a deep ink-colored abyss filling his gaze.
