She Flash-Married To His Rival

As her mind wandered, the car glided smoothly into the garage.

With efficiency, Barclay parked the vehicle, greeted by the bright glow of the garage lights. Then, he noticed Moira's rosy cheeks and the intensity in her gaze. "We've arrived," he remarked.

Moira snapped out of her reverie, glancing outside to realize they had reached their destination. "Oh, alright," she replied, swiftly unfastening her seatbelt and stepping out of the car. Yet, as her feet hit the ground, she felt a momentary dizziness. What was happening? Why did she feel a tad lightheaded?

"Leg troubling you?" Barclay inquired.

Moira had barely managed to stand upright when she awkwardly glanced at Barclay. "Not exactly, just a tad dizzy," she confessed.

It wasn't merely a touch of dizziness; a hint of warmth was also washing over her.

Moira instinctively reached up to her cheek, startled. "Am I running a fever?"

"You've been drinking," he stated flatly, not a question but a statement.

Moira pondered for a moment. "No, I only had orange juice with Cynthia when we went upstairs, and later, I had a glass of fruit juice while waiting for you." She hadn't touched any alcohol. Didn't he understand her well enough?

She wouldn't dare drink alcohol.

"That was fruit-infused wine!"

Moira looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes."

I'm going to shower and

the consequences if she were to

swiftly ascended the stairs to her

of her skirt and made a soft sound of amusement before following her

her room, Moira swiftly removed her makeup, showered, and then lay on her bed to hypnotize herself

but found it increasingly difficult to drift off despite her efforts. It wasn't merely warmth she felt. There was an

the dramatic plots Juliet would share in her beloved romance novels, where heroines were often drugged.

unbearable. Just a

finally couldn't resist the

she spotted Barclay pouring himself a glass of water before she even reached

he shifted his posture and focused his gaze on

a glass of water and downing it in

up, she caught

spoke, the living room filled only with the quiet rhythm

breaking the quiet. "Mr. Covington, is

alcohol tolerance wasn't the highest, but

"Not particularly."

her cheek thoughtfully. "I don't believe my tolerance is that

him,

be possible that something else bet mixed

felt completely

feel drawn to