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."

Covington, I'm going to shower

fearing the consequences if she were to get tipsy and

those words spoken, Moira swiftly ascended the

of her skirt and made a soft sound of amusement before

room, Moira swiftly removed her makeup, showered, and then lay on

despite her efforts. It wasn't merely warmth she felt. There was an unsettling sensation

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

unbearable.

lips again, Moira finally couldn't resist the urge to get

Barclay pouring himself a glass

his posture and focused his gaze on her. "Still

grabbing a glass of water and downing it in

up, she caught Barclay's

spoke, the living room filled only

the quiet. "Mr. Covington, is fruit

tolerance wasn't the highest, but surely

"Not particularly."

thoughtfully. "I don't believe my tolerance

him, she

possible that something else bet mixed into

felt completely out

feel drawn to kissing