A single sentence made Molly Wellington swallow the words she hadn't yet uttered.
Abraham Redington, he's doing great, really great!
Molly Wellington's almond-shaped eyes, moist and clear, burned brightly with anger.
Held in Abraham Redington's embrace, she bit her lower lip and glared at him, her almond-shaped eyes staring unblinkingly.
Those eyes, mixed with annoyance and anger, even with such a direct glare at Abraham Redington, showed not a trace of tenderness.
A man as smart as Abraham Redington could of course see through such emotions.
But he didn't care about all that.
Love or hate, he could never let go of his Molly Lewis again.
The man carefully laid Molly Wellington's petite, exquisite body on the big bed, leaning over and supporting himself on his long arms beside her head.
His slender fingers, covered in a thin layer of callus, gently brushed over her beautiful, crystalline face.
