Morgan Joyce's thin lips brushed against the girl's ear. His gentle voice, carried on a hot breath, murmured, "Why are you avoiding me?"
"I'm not avoiding you. Didn't I just say I was coming to the kitchen to see if dinner was ready?"
Hannah Hale was forced to lean back, her makeup-free cheeks flushing an unnatural crimson. Her heart and pulse began to race uncontrollably.
The housekeeper in the kitchen stole a glance at the two, a smile playing on her lips. She genuinely felt that Morgan Joyce and her young miss were a perfect match.
"You still haven't answered my question from this afternoon. Girlfriend or wife? Pick one."
Hannah Hale coughed lightly, flustered, and turned her face slightly to the side. "Don't say things like that. The housekeeper is still here."
"It's alright, Miss. I can make myself scarce."
The housekeeper, taking the hint, turned off the stove, picked up the prepared soup, and walked out of the kitchen.
