Bride Behind The Mask Novel

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.

her mood lifted, and even the snowy

that had stranded them together, cocooned in the tight space of the car, making Frederick seem so much more

an illusion, but she couldn’t help wanting it to last

go ungranted, and Maurice Winston’s ill-timed call came through.

Marguerite a bunch of messages, all of which she had purposefully ignored.

the rare peace

hell are you? When are you coming back?” Maurice’s irritable voice was unmistakable, even through the phone

to you

what the hell are you playing at? I know you’re with Frederick! Get back here now!”

the engine, and only then realized that the traffic had

Marguerite hung up, frustration lacing her

had called, and she

that Frederick didn’t seem to be taking her home. Instead, he took a

was puzzled. “Aren’t we

eyes deep and unreadable. “Dinner

blurted out a suggestion. “How about the Bluebell

to confess his feelings to her three years ago, and she wanted