Concerned, Raegan asked, âWhat happened to your hand?â
âItâs nothing.
â
Mitchel didnât want to admit he didnât know how to handle the pot properly and burned himself.
That would be too embarrassing!
As he headed toward the door with the bowl in hand, he suddenly turned around, leaned against the frame, smiled at Raegan, and asked, âDo you worry about me?â
Raegan put on a fake smile and replied, âYou wish!â
Hearing her response, Mitchel chuckled softly and exited the room.
Raegan was beyond irritated, feeling like she could chew off her tongue.
Why was she letting this bother her anyway? It wasnât the right time to bring it up.
Pitying a man was just inviting trouble, and sympathizing with one would only lead to misery.
This age-old saying about men echoed in her mind.
Sharing a bed with Mitchel again was out of the question.
They werenât in love anymore.
How could they casually share a bed like that?
When Mitchel returned, Raegan had composed herself.
She said indifferently, âMr.
Dixon, thanks for your help tonight.
Itâs late.
You should head back.
â
Mitchel looked at her and said with a sneer, âI know itâs late.
â
âAt this hour, itâs not appropriate for us to share a room, donât you think?â
Raegan wanted to say that she didnât want Mitchelâs new girlfriend to get the wrong idea, but she didnât want him to think she was jealous.
So, she tried to persuade him with tact.
But her words seemed to rub Mitchel the wrong way.
With a cold tone, he said, âAre you worried Henley will find out and get upset? After all, he forked out three million to win you over.
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He would be pissed if we share a bed.
â
Mitchelâs words stung, and Raegan clenched her fists.
She didnât want to argue, so she said with a cold expression, âWhatever.
Itâs time for you to leave.
â
Instead of leaving, Mitchel pulled the quilt and enveloped Raegan in his arms.
His body radiated heat, pressing against her like a burning stove.
Raegan tried to break free, but Mitchel held her hands from behind and warned, âBehave yourself.
Donât try to seduce me.
â