He drank quite a lot tonight, but didn't show any signs of being drunk.
However.
His hands were warm, and his body was surrounded by the scent of alcohol, clearly showing that his capacity for liquor was quite good.
They got in the car in succession.
Claire Prescott was about to find the seatbelt to fasten when her hand was blocked by him, and simultaneously, the partition inside the car rose.
She looked up, meeting that intense, deep gaze head-on.
The man's graceful appearance was shrouded in dim light, yet his aura and desire undeniably and dominantly occupied the entire space, as if a warm wind was rushing towards her.
"Come here." He said in a low voice, his tone very gentle.
Claire hesitated for a moment, worried about him being inappropriate with her, so she brushed off his hand, clicked the seatbelt buckle, and said calmly, "Not going."
Keane Lowell's hand froze in mid-air.
