"Scarlett, are you nervous?" Those little tricks of hers were never going to escape his sharp eyes.
She wanted to avoid him, but he wasn't going to let her have anywhere to hide.
"What are you afraid of? You don't even dare to look at me."
"I'm not afraid." Scarlett Yates said she wasn't, yet in her flustered state, she accidentally tipped over the soup Matthew Saxon had served her.
A small half bowl of soup quickly wet the table.
She froze for a moment, then grabbed the napkin from the table to wipe, but a pair of hands were faster than hers.
Matthew Saxon tossed the napkin casually onto the wet table, then grasped her hand.
He laughed, "Scarlett, why is your hand shaking so badly?"
But what trembled even more was her heart.
She didn't know when her heart had stopped listening to her.
Whenever she was alone with Matthew, this feeling became more evident.
Panic, helplessness, tension, confusion...
She didn't like this feeling.
