"Matthew Saxon?" Scarlett Yates stared at him, dumbfounded.
After a few seconds, she suddenly gasped softly, "Why are you holding me?"
Matthew Saxon gave her hand, which was still clutching his shirt, a meaningful glance and said with a deep smile, "It's you who keep holding on to me and taking advantage of me. How could you say I'm holding you now?"
"You're talking nonsense!" Scarlett Yates's face turned red, denying it in shame and anger.
But...
When she followed Matthew Saxon's teasing gaze downward, her face turned even redder.
This time, it was out of guilt.
She couldn't deny it even if she wanted to. Her hand was tugging on Matthew Saxon's shirt...
She remembered that Matthew Saxon's shirt had been ironed to perfection without a single crease, but now, this expensive shirt, which she couldn't even afford a single button of, was crumpled by her hand.
