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

the consequences if

Moira swiftly ascended the stairs to her

watched the sway of her skirt and made a soft sound of amusement before following her

removed her makeup, showered, and then lay on

sleep!" Moira whispered to herself but found it increasingly difficult to drift off despite her efforts. It wasn't merely warmth she felt.

heroines were often drugged. But Moira wasn't in that dire situation. She felt restless,

unbearable. Just a

again, Moira finally couldn't resist the urge to get up and head downstairs for

himself a glass of water before she

he shifted his posture and focused his gaze on her. "Still feeling

nodded, grabbing a glass of water and

caught Barclay's steady

living room filled only with the quiet rhythm of their

Moira couldn't resist breaking the quiet. "Mr. Covington, is

alcohol tolerance wasn't the highest,

"Not particularly."

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

him, she

that

felt completely out

did she suddenly feel drawn