A Ruling Passion: Mr Tremont's Priceless Little Bride novel Chapter 52

Arianne spotted Mark seated next to Aery. She also noticed that Aery's arm was coiled around Mark's. “I'm his wife. It's my responsibility to determine where he goes and to consider his safety.”

The word “wife” put a hateful look on Aery's face. “You…! He’s already made it clear, he doesn’t want to go!”

Out of pretense, Eric disembarked from the car and helped Mark down. “Stop causing trouble, Aery. A member of his family has arrived. Let Mark go.”

Aery, still unresigned, grabbed Mark's arm. “Mark’s already said that he doesn’t want to see her. Quit fooling around, Eric!”

Arianne didn't give two hoots about whether Mark returned home or not, but she also refused to back down at the prospect of him following Aery.

Before she could speak up, Mark suddenly shook Aery off and demandingly said, “Ari… Come here!”

There was no doubt that he was speaking to Arianne.

This was the first time Arianne ever heard him call her by that name, so she was a little absent-minded. After a momentary daze, she walked up to him and supported him. “Shall we go home?”

Mark wrapped his arms around her and mumbled into her neck, “Go…”

Aery trembled with rage. Didn't Mark hate Arianne? If he hated her, why was he following her?! Why was he putting on such an intimate display with her?!

Eric heaved a sigh of relief. “Ah, right… Arianne, there’s no one to drive you, right? I’ll do it. Aery, you can wait for Jackson.”

Arianne ignored Aery’s angry glare and helped Mark into the back of the car again. She waited for the car to start up before saying, “Thank you, Eric.”

Arianne’s face was completely buried into his chest. He was hugging her tightly. She blushed when she caught his scent. His strange words could make a girl lose herself in a reverie.

Although they were both still very unhappy with each other before he left, she was not silly enough to quibble with a drunk man. Hence, she obediently nestled herself into his arms and found a comfortable position.

Alas, he was not so obedient. His hand moved onto her face, then stroked her cheek with his fingers and thumb. Then, it shifted down, brushing past the clean nape of her neck and pausing on her delicate collarbone.

It was as if his hand had magical powers, bringing heat along with it wherever it went. Her heart raced, and she instinctively tried to relax her breathing.

He had no intention of stopping. Soon, his hand continued its journey down and lingered on her body.