Chapter 462

Marguerite fumbled with her seatbelt. She was confused.

Frederick, it seemed, didn’t dislike her as much as she had imagined.

A small thrill of victory zipped through her as she pondered this.

But then, as if on cue, fat snowflakes began to flutter down from the sky, quickly blanketing the streets and bringing traffic to a standstill, trapping the two of them on the road.

Marguerite had dashed out in such a rush that she only threw a peacoat over her usual dress, she didn’t even put on socks.

She felt a chill creeping in, her hands, now rosy with the cold, rubbed together for warmth.

Then came the “click” of a button being pressed, and the next thing she knew, a wave of warm air enveloped her. Suddenly, her heart felt a touch warmer, and she turned to the man beside her to ask, “Are you cold, too?”

“Mhm.” Frederick’s reply was terse, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, a picture of icy detachment.

Yet, the next moment, his eyes inadvertently flicked towards Marguerite’s exposed ankles, just beyond her boots, and his expression tightened ever so slightly.

In truth, Marguerite wanted to ask if Frederick had turned on the heat just for her, but his response made her feel like she was reading too much into it.

mood lifted, and even the snowy scene outside seemed more

that had stranded them together, cocooned in the tight

but she couldn’t help wanting it to last

and Maurice

had been sending Marguerite a bunch of messages, all

ringing phone shattered the rare peace

coming back?” Maurice’s irritable voice was

to you where

at? I know you’re with Frederick! Get

started the engine, and only then realized that the traffic had begun to clear.

it. I’ll be right there.” Marguerite hung up, frustration

called, and she didn’t feel

to be taking her home. Instead, he took a turn at the next junction, heading in

was puzzled. “Aren’t we

gaze, his eyes

a suggestion. “How about the Bluebell Bistro?”

Frederick had intended to confess his feelings to her three years ago, and

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