"Mr. Lewis!" Tiffany tried to stand up, but her legs betrayed her, buckling halfway. She slumped back onto the window seat with a thud.
Fresh from the shower, Vincent emerged from the bathroom. He wore a shirt with top two buttons casually undone, revealing a sliver of pale skin.
The unfamiliar scent in the air instantly triggered an alarm in his head.
Seeing Tiffany's condition, Vincent grabbed the jacket from the bed and instructed, "We need to leave. Get out of this room."
"Sure," Tiffany agreed, but her legs felt like jelly, refusing to obey her commands. Despite her repeated attempts, her anxiety only intensified, rendering her even more immobile. Vincent crouched before her and asked, "Can you stand up?"
Tiffany bit her lip, trying once more, but only to shake her head in defeat. "No, I just can't..."
Without hesitation, Vincent swept her up in an embrace. Her body felt weightless against his strength.
The familiar scent of Vincent's cologne enveloped Tiffany, sending a wave of dryness to her mouth and causing her heart to race erratically.
She licked her lips, her mind a hazy fog, her thoughts scattered and confused.
Fortunately, Vincent carried her out of the room swiftly. Gently settling her on the couch, he offered her a glass of water. Only after she finished did he ask, concern etched on his face, "Are you feeling alright?" Vincent's striking features dominated her vision. As he spoke, her gaze drifted to his lips, triggering a flood of memories from that unforgettable night.
A blush burned across her cheeks as she stammered, "Mr. Lewis, what's wrong with me?"
Vincent told the truth, saying, "The incense burning in that room is an aphrodisiac."
Tiffany's jaw dropped. "How could that be?"
Her cheeks flushed a deeper red as her heart hammered in her chest. She attempted to stand, but her legs buckled, sending her back onto the couch.
"This was a trap, but it was meant for me, not you. You were just caught in the middle," Vincent explained simply, trying to soothe her unease. He didn't say it was done by Charles and only gave her a brief explanation.
He then got up to open the door, tugged on it a few times, and found it was indeed locked from the outside.
Tiffany watched him pace restlessly
before he kneeled beside her again.
"The door's locked. We need a key to get out. Can I have your phone?"
"Sure," she said, retrieving it from her pocket.
The moment the phone screen lit up, the screensaver showed a photo of Tiffany and Teresa.
It was summer in the picture, with Tiffany in a white sundress, her hair cascading down her shoulders-a picture of pure, radiant beauty. Vincent couldn't tear his gaze away. The image etched itself into his memory like a scene witnessed a thousand times over.
"Any signal?" Tiffany straightened, peering over his shoulder at her phone.
As Vincent lifted his gaze, their foreheads bumped.
Tiffany flinched, her eyes locking with his intense stare. A dizzying sensation washed over her, like she was teetering on the edge.
Just as she started to pull back, Vincent rose abruptly, his forehead still pressed against hers. They tumbled back onto the couch in a tangled mess.
"Mr. Lewis..." Tiffany clenched her fists against her chest, feeling panicked and numb.
"Tiffany... Would you... agree...?" Vincent's voice was a low rumble as his Adam's apple bobbed rapidly.
The unspoken question hung heavy in the air.
Tiffany understood what he was asking. Her body was in discomfort, but she had not completely lost her sense of reason and morality.
She shook her head vigorously, avoiding Vincent's gaze, afraid that his intense look would burn away her sanity.
Suddenly, a strong hand grasped her chin, forcing her face toward his.
Vincent loomed over her, his cheeks unnaturally flushed. "Tiffany, would you hate me if I insisted?"
Tiffany's eyes widened, unsure if he still had some sanity left or if he was completely under the aphrodisiac's influence. His words were blunt, a stark contrast to the gentlemanly Vincent she knew. Ebookex
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