Shirley Thorne had a unique scent, like chestnuts roasted under the sun, which inexplicably brought to mind a city square in summer.
The way she buried her face in his chest was a bit unusual; the crown of her head was pressed right against Ethan Grant's Adam's apple.
Her fluffy hair was as soft as a kitten's fur—silky, warm, and tickling him in a way that made his heart itch.
Ethan Grant subconsciously rested his chin on the crown of her head, his voice tinged with a gentleness he himself didn't notice. "What's wrong?"
'What's wrong?'
'He's asking me what's wrong?'
'This filthy rich CEO has no male propriety!'
Shirley Thorne had only intended to provoke Katherine Kane by acting a little intimate, to make the homewrecker back off, but...
She never, ever expected the big-shot CEO to be so cooperative!
Feeling the large, strong hand on her waist, her skin felt like it was on fire, and the heat spread from her waist through her entire body.
