Dangerous Love: You Are My One and Only Bride novel Chapter 712

Mark hung up the phone and ordered Mary to prepare the guest room. By this point, he was fairly sure that Tiffany was not going away tonight. It was nearing eleven, yet his Arianne did not look at all like she was packing up for bed.

He stood on the end of the stairs and called out, “Ari, it’s getting late. Time for bed, yes?”

Arianne eyed the clock on the living room wall. “It really is late. Why don’t we head to bed, Tiffie?”

A veil of moroseness still hung over Tiffany, who found it hard to smile when she remembered that Jackson had not given her a call or text even now. “Okay. But… I don’t wanna sleep alone. Sleep with me?”

Mark almost choked himself on how accurate his prediction was. He knew it; Tiffany would definitely dish out this card — it was always moments like these when he was forced to reckon with the women’s creed of “sistahs before mistahs.”

Surprising absolutely no one, Arianne said yes without batting an eyelash. “You got it, sis. Come, I’m gonna show you to the guest room.”

Mark stood still on his spot at the stairs as he watched the two women go past him. He was beyond reluctant to comply with their arrangement, yet he could not find it in him to object. In the end, he strode into the bedroom alone, and tossed and turned on his bed.

When sleep refused to come, Mark grabbed his phone and texted Arianne: ‘Sleep beside me please.’

Immediately after pushing the door to their bedroom open, Mark yanked Arianne inside and pressed her against the wall, his hand stilling protectively on her waist. “I called Jackson a while ago, and I’ll be frank: he’s angry as hell,” he recounted quickly. “He’s usually a very congenial, agreeable guy, but with his fuse lit like that, he’s turned into a brick wall no one could talk sense to.”

Arianne raised her head and considered him. His head obscured much of the light from above, masking his handsome facial features with a slight blur. Suddenly, it looked as though he had never aged nor changed, and was still the same handsome eighteen-years-old lad from back then. The only and most crucial difference was his eyes — the edges in them had softened.

She gently tugged on the edge of his shirt, her eyes smiling. “Where is this going?”