Hilla shrank and burrowed her face into Bruce's chest, complaining in a low voice, "What are you doing? It's cold!"
Bruce tightened his arms around her, pulled the blanket over to wrap her up, and brought the milk to her mouth, "Drink it."
Hilla frowned, feeling reluctant, but she still drank it up.
"Say, am I a good child?"
Hilla looked at Bruce with puppy eyes, and clutched on his shirt with her delicate hands, fishing for his praise.
This sent Bruce's pulse racing. His Adam's apple moved with a swallowing motion. He said in a deep magnetic voice, "Good girl."
Bruce held her so tightly that it made her hurt. Hilla frowned with discontent, "You are not sincere. Why had you been out till so late tonight? Are you meeting another girl behind my back?"
Bruce thought to himself, "Maybe her ancestors were real fortune tellers, but pitifully Hilla had not inherited the ability."
"For business. Are you interested?"
