Summer had to hit her other elbow to get a shocked Spring to focus. "Hello, Mr. Wayland. Your home is lovely," Spring said as she offered her hand.

Mr. Wayland took Spring's offered hand and lightly kissed the back. "It's pretentious, but it's home." He turned his attention back to Summer.

"This is Summer, my sister," Spring said with a smile.

Summer nodded to Mr. Stanley but blushed when she met Mr. Wayland's gaze. "Mr. Wayland."

Thomas Wayland, a tall gorgeous man with the most alluring dark skin and even darker hair and eyes, extended his hand to Summer. She placed her hand in his and he slowly raised it to his lips and kissed the back. After several beats of their obvious mutual attraction, he said, "Would you like a tour of Wayland Mansion?"

"I would," Summer said with a smile then looked at Spring.

Mr. Spencer moved closer to Spring. "I'll keep her entertained until your return."

Spring nodded to her sister with a smile. Summer's face lit up as she threaded her hand around Wayland's presented arm.

"I didn't notice your accent before," Spring said as she looked at Mr. Spencer. Now that she thought about it, she didn't recall hearing him say anything during the shoot; he quietly relayed all his requests through his assistant.

long that Spring began to fidget with her glass. When it was at the point of being unbearable, he said, "I was born in Australia. My parents raised me in Paris, and I now reside in America." He peered around the room then took her glass from her hands. "I really

glasses down and took her by the hand to the dance floor. The way he placed his hand around her, grazing his fingers and thumb over her

about to embarrass herself. She was about to question his

dance, Spring. Calm down.)

Mr. Spencer?" she

please." He pulled her

Spring felt his fingers as they pressed into her

"Have you been?"

most excitement I've ever had." Spring laughed. "Well, this and the photo

around slowly, leading her in the dance like an expert. "What a grand opportunity for the man who desires to

he flirting with

to hide her blush. "Mr.

whispered as his face slowly moved toward

(This cannot be happening...)

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DEZMOND

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