The night breeze blew from the valley, brushing past the window, and the wooden farmhouse was warm in winter and cool in summer. It was September at the foot of the mountain, and the weather was refreshing. Inside, the floor heating was off, and the man's warm lips touched Adan's forehead, carrying a scorching heat. His eyes were impressively bright.
Adan sensed the restrained tension in his arm muscles, his whole body exuding an air of aggression, causing her to release his arm in slight panic.
She unconsciously held her breath.
"You sleep first; we'll talk tomorrow." Marcus Quinn's voice was unusually deep, and then he got up like a breeze and entered the bathroom.
Adan lay wide awake, listening to the sounds of him showering. When he emerged, he lay down on a thin mattress spread on the floor, finally letting out a sigh of relief. She lay there wide awake and lost in thought for a long time before falling asleep.
