Her entire hand was red from his grip. She tossed the wood carving onto the table, stood up, and glared angrily: "Young Master, I think you must be ill, and quite seriously at that. I am not the acquaintance you know. Please do not seek me out again, nor speak any more inexplicable words to me."
"Wait, don't go." Maxwell Saxon's eyes showed a hint of regret.
His emotions had just gotten out of control, clearly scaring her.
That was not his intention.
"I'm sorry, Miss Yates. I did mistake you for my friend just now. I'm sorry for frightening you, but I assure you it won't happen again." He retrieved the wood carving she had angrily thrown on the table and solemnly apologized to her.
Scarlett Yates glared at him silently.
Maxwell Saxon looked at her with deeply apologetic eyes.
As the two stood in silence, Scarlett Yates was hesitating about whether to leave when suddenly, with a bang, the door of the small courtyard was flung open.
