Is it still possible to run now?
“Relax. I won’t touch you tonight.” Marico’s tone was steady, giving nothing away.
Yvonne glanced back at the man sitting on the edge of the bed. Her delicate features were pinched with hesitation.
She stood there, fidgeting with her toes, clearly uncomfortable. Marico dimmed the lights and stretched out on the king-sized bed.
“If I’d wanted to, I would’ve made a move earlier.”
Yvonne’s face went crimson, as if she’d been caught in a spotlight.
“Could you… not say things like that so bluntly?” she stammered, biting her lip, her eyes trembling as she looked at him.
Why did he always say such outrageous things with that unruffled calm?
“Isn’t that just what grown-ups do? Did I say anything wrong?”
Marico turned his head, his deep eyes narrowing as he looked at her squirming by the door.
“It makes you sound like a creep.”
Her words actually made him laugh. “Alright, next time I’ll be more subtle. Enough talk—let’s get some sleep.”
He gave in that easily? That surprised her. After all, earlier at work, she’d been torn to shreds for using the wrong template on a proposal. Why was he suddenly so easy to talk to?
“Um, I—”
“Did you not sleep at all last night?”
His familiar, authoritative tone made her forget her nerves. “I’m just going to put on some ointment,” she blurted, then hurried into the bathroom and took several deep breaths to steady herself.
After five minutes of stalling, she finally emerged.
Back in the bedroom, Yvonne still felt awkward.
“If you want, I can get you a couple of drinks. Might help you relax,” Marico said, glancing at her slumped posture, his voice low.
She shook her head vigorously. “No, no, I’m fine.”
“For me, lights out is nine-thirty. No phones in bed.”
“…!” Yvonne had just been thinking about distracting herself with her phone, but with that, she didn’t dare.
“Nine-thirty? Seriously?” She looked at him in disbelief, still sitting on the bed.

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