Chapter 822

“Are you resolute?” In his query, astonishment found no dwelling.

The potency of Millie’s abilities had long been an eyewitness in

Marcus’ regard.

“aye. I will not seek your guidance ad infinitum. My conviction stands tall, bolstered by faith in my own

faculties.”

An air of assurance danced upon her visage, her chin held aloft in defiance. Marcus’ fingers, as deft as

artisans, caressed her tender chin, a gesture suffused with whispers of endearment.

Millie, wrapped in a cocoon of confidence, proved an even more enchanting sight. Against the

commodious divan, Marcus leaned, relinquishing the laptop’s embrace to its cushions. Ah, how sublime

it was to possess Millie’s presence.

In time’s tender passage, Millie’s countenance was etched with consternation.

…ay, what ails you?” he inquired.

“Should I achieve good results, they may think I have known the answers in advance.”

Derisive tongues might whisper of clandestine perusal. Alas, success would spawn derision, while

failure would beckon mockery from Kaya.

Marcus’ scrutiny remained unbroken, capturing every nuance of her demeanor, be it bashful or

crestfallen. An intoxicating elixir, her myriad expressions blended into a potion of unparalleled felicity.

“Why, perchance, are the perceptions of others a concern that burdens your thoughts?” He was

bemused.

Leaning against the couch’s plush embrace, Marcus inched closer, his voice gradually taking on a

husky timbre as each word left his lips. ‘m yearning for slumber, for weariness has overtaken me.”

Millie sensed the need to concoct an excuse for her departure. Yet his gaze, akin to that of a predator,

seemed to engulf her.

“Should your heart yearn for repose, then let your lips engage in a parting kiss.”

His voice, a gentle murmur, sent Millie’s pulse into a frenzied dance. “Merely a kiss? A trivial pursuit.”

Millie, daring and determined, pressed her tender Lips against his own.

A fleeting caress ensued, only to be followed by her hasty retreat. Marcus, though tempted,

relinquished any further advances.

On the bed’s expanse, Millie ensconced herself beneath the quilt’s embrace, opting to shield her gaze

from Marcus” intense scrutiny.

Time unfurled its wings, and in a few heartbeats, Marcus averted his gaze from her, contemplating her

recent words. With grace befitting a monarch, he strode to the balcony, fingers poised to initiate a call.

“I beseech a favor of you.” In the blink of an eye, the final day of their two-week sojourn arrived.

A mound of examination scripts found refuge in Marcus’ grip as he entered the classroom’s threshold.