She Flash-Married To His Rival

Chapter 225



Chapter 225

As her mind wandered, the car glided smoothly into the garage.

With efficiency, Barclay parked the vehicle, greeted by the bright glow of the garage lights. Then, he noticed Moira's rosy cheeks and the intensity in her gaze. "We've arrived," he remarked.

Moira snapped out of her reverie, glancing outside to realize they had reached their destination. "Oh, alright," she replied, swiftly unfastening her seatbelt and stepping out of the car.

Yet, as her feet hit the ground, she felt a momentary dizziness. What was happening? Why did she feel a tad lightheaded?

"Leg troubling you?" Barclay inquired.

Moira had barely managed to stand upright when she awkwardly glanced at Barclay. "Not exactly, just a tad dizzy," she confessed.

It wasn't merely a touch of dizziness; a hint of warmth was also washing over her.

Moira instinctively reached up to her cheek, startled. "Am I running a fever?"

"You've been drinking," he stated flatly, not a question but a statement.

Moira pondered for a moment. "No, I only had orange juice with Cynthia when we went upstairs, and later, I had a glass of fruit juice while waiting for you."

She hadn't touched any alcohol. Didn't he understand her well enough?

She wouldn't dare drink alcohol.

"That was fruit-infused wine!"

Moira looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Covington, I'm going to shower and turn in!"

While still clear-headed, she hurried back to lock her door, fearing the consequences if she were to get tipsy and make a spectacle of herself later! With those words spoken, Moira swiftly ascended the stairs to her room.

Barclay watched the sway of her skirt and made a soft sound of amusement before following her lead.

Once back in her room, Moira swiftly removed her makeup, showered, and then lay on her bed to hypnotize herself into sleep.

"Sleep, just sleep!" Moira whispered to herself but found it increasingly difficult to drift off despite her efforts. It wasn't merely warmth she felt. There was an unsettling sensation creeping over her.

That unfamiliar feeling brought to mind the dramatic plots Juliet would share in her beloved romance novels, where heroines were often drugged. But Moira wasn't in that dire situation. She felt restless, unable to drift off, and a tad overheated.

Unpleasant, yet not unbearable. Just a lingering thirst.

After lying for a while, moistening her lips again, Moira finally couldn't resist the urge to get up and head downstairs for a drink.

To her surprise, she spotted Barclay pouring himself a glass of water before she even reached the kitchen island.

Fresh from his shower and donned

in

e pajamas, he perched on a

ol, one leg casually crossed

the other.

As she approached, he shifted his posture and focused his gaze on her. "Still feeling warm?"

Moira nodded, grabbing a glass of water and downing it in one gulp.

Glancing up, she caught Barclay's steady gaze.

Neither spoke, the living room filled only with the quiet rhythm of their breathing.

Eventually, Moira couldn't resist breaking the quiet. "Mr. Covington, is fruit wine potent?"

Her alcohol tolerance wasn't the highest, but surely it wasn't that low?

"Not particularly."

Moira touched her cheek thoughtfully. "I don't believe my tolerance is that low."

Glancing at him, she mustered her

courage

it be

Mr. Covington, could. possible that something else was mixed

into the wine?" Contest

She felt completely out of sorts!

Why did she suddenly feel drawn to kissing Barclay?

What was going on?

Setting down his glass, Barclay leaned in suddenly, his hand gently resting on her forehead. "You're not feverish."

Retracting his hand, he lightly brushed her cheek with his index finger. "Feeling warm?"

Moira met his gaze, nodding slowly.

"Uncomfortable?"

"Not exactly, but..."

Moira hesitated, struggling to put her feelings into words.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"But what?"

His intense gaze prompted her to continue.

Under his gaze, Moira's heart pounded in her chest. Her mind went

y save for one thought: "I

want to kiss you."

tent belongs

Before she could even finish her thought, her lips suddenly felt soft!

A kiss... had they just kissed?


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