The neon lights outside the car window dragged long streaks of light across the glass. Inside, low jazz flowed from the Berlin Audio system, and the scent of cedarwood floated in the confined space.
Sitting in the back seat, Shen Meng unconsciously rubbed the new Cartier Ballon Bleu on her wrist. The Roman numerals on the watch face glowed a faint blue in the darkness, just like the fleeting, turbulent emotion in his eyes when he had fastened the strap for her moments ago.
The sudden kiss from the restaurant still burned on her lips. The scent of whiskey, mixed with the faint fragrance of agarwood from his shirt collar, now seemed to drift back to her on the air-conditioned breeze. She pressed her lips together. The AC was on, but she still felt the car was too warm.
Since they had both been drinking, Yang Hui had called for a designated driver. It was a pity that in such a perfect atmosphere, he couldn't take things a step further with her.
