shuhaige
Chapter 34
Chapter 34
She slipped out of her little black dress, standing in only her black lingerie, her pale skin glowing softly under the dim light
With a creak, the door swung open.
Megan, startled, quickly grabbed a shirt to cover her chest and turned around to see who it was.
In the doorway stood Sullivan. His gaze fixed on her as he slowly shut the dressing room door behind him……
Megan bit her lip “Sullivan, this is the women’s dressing room!”
But Sullivan acted as if he hadn’t heard her. He approached her, and before she could react, he took the shirt from her hands. Then, with one hand, he pinned her against the locker to scrutinize her in the light.
Megan wasn’t accustomed to this. Her skin prickled with tiny goosebumps. She shivered slightly.
She dared not scream for fear of drawing others in.
But Sullivan did nothing more. He just quietly looked her over as if they had never been husband and wife… as if it was his first time seeing her body.
There wasn’t even a trace of desire in his eyes.
After a long moment, his grip relaxed.
Megan tumed her back to him, her fingers trembling slightly as she dressed. She tried to sound nonchalant. “Sullivan, what’s the meaning of this?”
Sullivan was a mix of emotions.
During their three–year marriage, he disregarded Megan.
When she proposed divorce, he hadn’t taken it seriously. In his mind, Megan seemed to belong exclusively to him. It never occurred to him that so many men coveted his wife, and he had been oblivious all along.
He moved closer to her from behind. His breath, tinged with a faint scent of tobacco, warmed her delicate earlobe, tuming a small patch of her clear skin a tempting pale pink
Sullivan’s eyes lowered, his Adam’s apple involuntarily moved, and his voice came out huskier than usual, “What am I to do you, Mrs. Lowry? A femme fatale, aren’t you?” This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.
Megan didn’t understand his meaning, and Sullivan didn’t want her to.
On the ride back to the Lowry Mansion, he was silent, only occasionally glancing at her when stopping at red lights, making Megan’s skin crawl. But she didn’t flatter herself into thinking Sullivan had suddenly fallen for her
She wasn’t that vain.
Late at night, a black Bentley pulled into the Lowry Mansion. As the car stopped, Sullivan said casually, “Consider a job change. Ill arrange something for you.”
His tone was ambiguous, and Megan couldn’t be bothered to guess his intentions.
She gripped the car door handle, softly saying, “Sullivan, I don’t know what’s on your mind, but I quite like my job! And I don’t to arrange anything for me!”
She had taken a job to move away from him. If she accepted his offer, then what was the point of everything she had done?
Megan tried to get out of the car, but Sullivan caught her wrist.
need
you
His eyes were a depth she had never seen, especially captivating when angry. They were locked in this standoff for what felt like half a minute before Sullivan finally asked in a steady voice, “Megan, is it that you don’t want anything I give you? Do you really hate me that much?”
Megan couldn’t break free from his grip. She blinked, her voice a trace bewildered, “It’s not hate!”
“Then what is it?”
Sullivan pressed, but their conversation was cut short.
The car door suddenly swung open.
The servant outside, seeing their clasped hands, beamed, “Madam Heloise heard some noise, knew it was the young master bringing the young mistress home, and specially asked me to come get you!”
Megan knew he had misunderstood and tried to pull away. But Sullivan didn’t release her hand. Instead, he held it, his fingertips gently stroking the back of her soft hand, pretending to be the picture of a loving couple!