Remington shifted Lizetta gently to the side, “Watch out for the broken pieces.”
Lizetta glanced down, noticing the shattered remains of the two pots of succulents that had been sitting on the balcony. Her lips pressed into a tight line.
“So why were you playing around like a cat? Look at this mess!” she groaned, still shaken from the recent scare.
Remington’s expression softened, his lips parting slightly.
“Why are you upset with me? I’m broken too, you know. Feel for yourself.”
He guided her hand to his chest, his grip firm yet warm. His hands, though elegant and well-manicured at first glance, bore the rough texture of someone who spent time riding, golfing, and at the shooting range.
Despite their coarseness, Lizetta could feel the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm.
For a moment, her irritation faded away, replaced by a strange, soft warmth.
“I didn’t know the great CEO of the Dashiell Group could mimic a cat so well,” she teased.
Remington’s lips curved into a playful smile.
“When my Liz says there’s a cat, I can’t just let her down.”
Lizetta chuckled, “Alright, let’s hear it again.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Hold on tight.”
“What?” she stammered as his hand slipped from her waist momentarily, causing her to cling tighter to him, her hand instinctively wrapping around his neck.
Remington chuckled, her spirited response lifting his mood.
“That won’t do. I’m already in the negatives with your family. If I can’t score high with you, am I doomed to never earn your favor?”
He leaned in, their noses brushing gently, his voice a soft, enticing whisper.
“Ms. Madden, have mercy on me.”
Lizetta felt a flush spread across her cheeks, turning her head slightly, “You expect me to speak well of you to my family? Dream on!”
Though she might forgive him and give him another chance, she wouldn’t sway her family’s opinion. If he was serious, he’d have to earn their trust and approval himself.

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