Tristan froze, staring at Mary, unable to even kick-start his motorbike. His heart was racing. He had never found himself so deeply drawn to any woman… until Mary. He had always been the quiet, reserved type, keeping to himself, painfully shy — shyer than some women, even. If only he could tell her how much she had affected his heart, maybe he’d find some peace…
Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Mr. Tristan, surely you’re not leaving now? Please be patient… Dior and the others couldn’t get transport on time, but they’re on their way now. I just spoke to her. Please, let me bring you some water…” she said, laying out the mats in her hand.
Tristan had been staring at her the whole time she spoke, then quickly looked away, afraid their eyes would meet and she’d see right through
