Melissa felt that ignoring Marcus now would be cold-hearted and ungrateful.
After much hesitation, she finally stepped inside.
There, she found that Marcus was fast asleep.
He did appear ill, his usually handsome face flushed with fever.
Melissa rarely had the chance to observe him so closely.
He was undeniably attractive, but she usually avoided staring at him, for his gaze had the power to make her knees go weak.
Now, she seized the opportunity.
Feeling compelled, she halfâ-knelt beside him, captivated by his face resting against the pillow.
He had such a strikingly captivating face, even in the simple bathrobe.
It was then that Melissa became acutely aware of her own appearance.
She was still in her simple white T-shirt from the breakfast shop.
She felt like Cinderella to his prince, as if everything about their time together was borrowed and would vanish after midnight.
The room was enveloped in silence.
Melissa couldnât resist.
She gently traced her fingers over Marcusâ Lips, recalling their softness and the intense ki*ses they shared.
Despite everything, she still harbored feelings for him.
Her eyes welled up with emotion.
She longed to ki*s him, even just a light peck.
Leaning forward, Melissaâs lips brushed against his ever so lightly.
She intended to pull back immediately.
But as she started to move away, she felt his hand on the back of her head, and suddenly she was beneath him.
Narcusâ feverish body radiated heat.
His bathrobe had fallen open, revealing his chiseled physique.
Melissa turned her face aside, too overwhelmed to look at him directly.
Her voice quivered as she muttered, âLet me go.
â
âLet you go? Didnât you come here by yourself?â Marcusâ voice was raspy, his eyes burning with intensity as he gazed at Melissa beneath him, almost devouring her with his look.
He reminded her, âWhat did I say? We werenât supposed to see each other again, remember?â
Fear slowly overcame Melissa.
The memories of the previous night haunted her, causing her to tremble.