Sanford extricated himself from the woman’s grip on his clothes and proceeded to straighten his attire.

With a coy blink, Yana pulled down her collar, exposing more of herself. “Thank you for saving me.”

Sanford cast a sidelong glance at her, his departure as nonchalant as a passing breeze.

Seizing his hand, Yana clutched her chest, her voice wavering. “I…I’m unwell.”

Beneath his affable facade, Sanford harbored a fiery temper, his playboy exterior contrasting with his true nature.

Summoning his patience, he queried, “What ails you?”

asthmatic. My inhaler-it’s in

your

Would you

her body Leaning toward Sanford as if

Sanford intercepted a waiter

waiter’s

Accompany her to

condition worsens, call an

“Where is your private room? I’ll

her facade crumbling. She pushed him away vehemently.

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