Lianne had just woken up. She gazed at Seth Sinclair, her eyes heavy with sleep, a strange sense of melancholy clouding her mind.
'Did I touch him?'
Lianne's delicate brows furrowed as she tried her best to recall the details, but her mind was like a misty drizzle, obscuring everything.
After a moment, her eyelashes, curved like a classic little fan, blinked slowly. Her tone was firm. "I didn't touch you."
Seth Sinclair took the glass from Lianne's hand and placed it on the nightstand. He leaned down, moving closer and closer to where she sat on the bed.
As his aggressively handsome face drew near, Lianne instinctively leaned her upper body back until her shoulders hit the headboard, leaving her with no escape.
They were so close. The man's unique scent of cool fir, mixed with the crisp aroma of a little bitter orange leaf, enveloped Lianne like a fine net, making her temporarily forget the bitterness of the medicine.
