Mark's hand moved to the back of her neck. He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer.
In her past life, Lyvana would have thought this was romantic. Now, she felt sick. When he forced his tongue into her mouth, she almost gagged. She held her breath, praying for someone to walk in.
The sound of footsteps approaching forced Mark to pull away. Although his grip on her neck lingered for a second too long, before his hand dropped.
Mark cleared his throat, adjusting his blazer with a casual flick of his shoulders.
"I am sorry to interrupt," the maid whispered, looking at the floor. "I was instructed to inform you that the table is set."
"Thank you, Maria," Lyvana said quickly.
Mark turned to her and brushed a hair from her face. Lyvana wanted to scream, but she stayed still.
"You need to behave," he said quietly. Then he stepped back. "Now, tell me. Why are you avoiding me? And where exactly did you disappear to last night?"
"I'm not avoiding you, Mark."
