FakeNovelPresidential Suite, Westerhaven Hotel.
Briony sat at the vanity, smoothing moisturizer into her skin.
A knock sounded at the door.
She got up and opened it.
On the threshold, Maynard leaned against the frame, arms folded. "Care to watch
a movie together?"
Briony paused, surprised. "What movie?"
"The new Titanic remake."
She glanced at the clock-barely ten o'clock.
Since her recovery, her routine had settled into a strict rhythm.
Besides, of all movies, he picked that one...
Briony offered Maynard a polite smile. "Sorry, but it's already my bedtime."
"Briony, are you really that heartless?" Maynard let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. "It's just a movie. Are you
guarding againstlike I'm screep? That hurts, you know."
"| trust your character, Mr. Maynard. | just really need my rest." Briony's tone was earnest. "After all, it took a lot
to get my life back on track. I'm sure you can understand."
"Fine." Maynard heaved a tic sigh. "It's my bad for not thinking it through. So, you tellwhen will you
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtwatch a movie with me?"
Briony frowned. "Mr. Maynard, I—"
"Are you going to turndown again?" He cut her off, eyes bright with mischief, words taunting. "Briony, you're
such a coward."
Briony stared at him, at a loss for words.
"What are you so afraid of?" Maynard arched an eyebrow with a teasing smirk. "I promise | don't bite."
Briony pressed her fingers to her temple. "Maynard, are you five years old? Are you really trying to winover
with reverse psychology?"
"What else can | do?" Maynard shrugged, grinning. "You're immune to everything. I'm running out of tricks here!"
Briony offered a sincere suggestion. "You could just give up."
"I'm thirty-six," Maynard replied, putting on a wounded look. "Briony, in a few more years I'll be forty and
everyone says a man's no good after forty."
Briony couldn't help but laugh out of exasperation.
"How about this," he continued, "Why not just acceptnow-datefor a
couple of years, and then dumpbefore I hit forty?"
Briony let out a sigh, half amused,
half annoyed. "Maynard, feelings et
aren't a joke. | know you like togoke around, but sthings aren't funny."
Maynard straightened his collar with a flourish. "It might sound like a joke, but I'm
more serious than anyone."
"I can't argue with you," Briony said, shaking her head. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
As she closed the door, Maynard's hand darted out-
She barely had tto react before the door caught his fingers.
Five minutes later, a hotel staff member brought up a first-aid kit.
Maynard lounged on the sofa, one arm draped over the backrest,
other the injured hand- theet
his
fingers hanging |
on
Four knuckles were already swollen and bruised, red and angry.
It looked nasty.
The solid wooden door, weed
as it was clearly-pazked a buf :
TReomet is on novelenglish.net!
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm
Briony took out the ointment and gently dabbed it on his hand.
The suite was silent.
She turned slightly, head bowed as
she worked. The light overkesd Iddst
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chapter there!
glow over her flawless profile.
Her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, thick and curled.
Maynard rarely had the chance to study her from this close.
She'd just showered, wearing a soft
cotton pajama 3) i aoreanty White
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made her seem especially gentle and serene.
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