Van re-fastened her seatbelt, then glanced at her. The dim moonlight made his gaze seem deep and obscure, and Winnie couldn't understand the hidden aggression in his eyes.
When he spoke again, the depth in his gaze faded. He lowered his eyes, his tone becoming plain, but somehow still making her feel reliable. "I was lying. I'll take you home."
Winnie wanted to believe it was that comforting scent at play, and her inner voice told her that it was.
The Benz started and stopped, and each time it did, Eric's Maybach behind them would follow suit.
Yulia confidently guessed, "Mr. Marlowe must have not driven for a long time, that's why he's so unfamiliar with it."
Eric smiled. "The young master indeed hasn't driven for a while, especially not for a lady."
Winnie kept her eyes on the rearv
