Titus Zane lowered his gaze, his thick, curly lashes did a good job of masking the panic in his eyes, and his full lips curved into a tempting arc.
"A man as ticulous and observant as you, it’s quite a pity you’re not a detective."
In fact, Titus Zane had a bad habit of blinking unconsciously when he was nervous.
Just like now, his thick, curly lashes fluttered with every blink, opening and closing like a gracefully dancing butterfly.
Wesley Foley suddenly felt an urge, a desire to capture this butterfly, to possess her for himself, to be the sole person to appreciate her beauty for a lifeti.
Wesley did just that; he grasped Titus’s hand and gently pulled her closer, while his other hand lifted, his slender fingers cautiously reaching for those butterfly-like wings...
Sensing sothing amiss, Titus lifted her eyes, slightly startled to see the approaching fingers, "You..."
Before she could question his intent, Wesley smiled, drawing back the fingers that were about to touch her eyelashes, his gentle eyes t Titus’s gaze, the smile at the corner of his lips slightly restrained, replaced by an unmistakable affection.
"You really are beautiful," he breathed, soft as a spring breeze caressing her face, as his shadow drew down, Wesley’s handso face coming closer, so close their faces were nearly touching, so near that in each other’s eyes, they could see their own reflections.
In their silent gaze, Titus’s heart began to flutter with turmoil.
She didn’t dislike Wesley’s closeness, but neither did she like it.
Towards Wesley, if there were any sentints, it was rely the residual conscience stirring a sense of compassion.
Beyond that, nothing else.
Initially, she had fantasized about having a Platonic love affair since she was fond of the tender deanor of the man before her; she liked love as soft as silent drizzles, invisibly infusing warmth, fearing the overwhelming torrent of passionate romance.
Because of her temperant, her age, she could not withstand dramatic ups and downs.
But Wesley’s recent gesture, simple and direct as it was, made Titus feel that this seemingly gentle yet ticulously observant man was too terrifying, for he hid his sharp edges behind a facade of smooth jade.
Such a man was the most dangerous; compared with Nathan Moore who wore his coldness openly, this man could be far more perilous.
Suddenly, Titus thought that perhaps kindness and consideration were rely his disguises, and in reality, once those layers were stripped away, the man before her would be a ruthless character.
If he weren’t exceptionally intelligent and shrewd, how could he have beco a leading figure in the electronics components industry!
In her distraction, her lips felt a weight—Wesley’s lips pressing down. Instinctively, Titus turned her face, and the warm touch moved from her lips to her cheek...
In T city, inside a luxurious villa with exquisite and lavish decorations, even the bed for one person was three ters wide.
Having just experienced an intense lovemaking, Nicholas Croft leaned at the edge of the bed, his bare chest still beading with sweat.
With one hand holding a cigarette, an arm encircling Beatrice Hargrave’s shoulders, he let her rest her head on his broad shoulder, the slight heaves of his chest seed to declare how stirring their recent passion had been.
Beatrice’s face pressed against Nicholas Croft’s sturdy chest, one small hand placed on it, listening to the man’s slightly disordered breathing, a faint smile touched her lips.
Blowing out a stream of smoke, Nicholas lowered his gaze to the girl lying on his chest, and moved the cigarette between his fingers towards her, "Want a puff?"
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