Fleeting Love
“I didn’t do it. He moved the soup toward me himself. And I’m allergic to seafood. Don’t remember?”
Only then did Ellis seem to recall, but she remained stubborn.
She tossed out a curt, “Take care of yourself,” and left without looking back.
Night brought a sudden downpour, and as expected, I was drenched through.
By the time I returned to the villa, it was already late.
Through the half-closed door, I heard the sound of breathy, intimate gasps.
I froze, and then Russell opened the door with a sly smile.
“I didn’t expect a loyal little lapdog like you to eavesdrop. What’s wrong? Miss Stewart hasn’t let you touch her in three years, has she? Are you jealous?”