The next day, Lucy Ansley came to the living room with two dark circles under her eyes.
She didn't have insomnia, but she just couldn't fall asleep.
As soon as she closed her eyes, the scene of being kissed by Henry Ronan while in his arms immediately appeared in her mind.
In the center of the living room, the man was already dressed neatly and sat on the sofa, looking down at his phone.
Upon hearing a sound, he looked up, with a timely smile playing on his lips.
No matter how familiar Lucy was with him, every time she saw his classic attire of a white shirt and suit pants, her heart would involuntarily speed up.
Handsome, gentle, elegant, and an appealing mature tenderness.
Lucy tucked imaginary strands of hair behind her ear, and just as she approached the sofa, a husky and magnetic voice sounded from across, "Looking so tired, didn't sleep well last night?"
She gave him a sidelong glance, "No, I slept fine."
