Matthew Saxon suddenly let out a low chuckle, gently tracing her face to her brow and eyes. "Scarlett, do you really dislike me being close to you so much?"
A warm hand gently covered her eyes, with a faint, pleasant fragrance emanating from his palm.
How could this feeling possibly be something to dislike?
Scarlett Yates, feeling flustered, pushed him away. Realizing that she had unknowingly been taken advantage of again, she glared at him with both shame and anger. "Young Master, please have some self-respect."
"Self-respect?" Matthew Saxon curved his lips indifferently.
He gazed deeply at Scarlett Yates, his eyes locking onto hers firmly, "Scarlett Yates, do you really hate my touch so much?"
He could sense that she wasn't entirely indifferent to him.
Her body's initial reactions said everything.
But why did she keep avoiding him, deliberately pulling away from him?
"Young Master, we had an agreement."
