Summer trembled when the warm palm of his hand touched her skin. It frightened her. She did not know what to do.
Her racing heartbeat only calmed down after a long while. "Why do you want to marry me?" she spelled out her words.
She was not an eighteen-year-old who still fantasized about a fairy-tale relationship anymore.
While he had power and money, yielding dominant influence in Santabaca, she was just an ordinary teacher. Not to mention that they had only met six times.
The only time they had an intimate encounter was the night when they got drunk and slept together.
Had he been fascinated by her body since then?
Absolutely impossible. She felt ridiculous just by thinking about it.
So why did he want to marry her?
There was silence for over ten seconds, and the cigarette between his fingertips still shimmered. He then opened his mouth.
"I need a partner to marry. And you, whom I don't hate,
are the best candidate."
Looking at his penetrating eyes, Summer could see a faint sense of loneliness, and an indescribable complex emotion in him.
When she tried to take a closer look, he let go of her hand. "Think over it tonight and give me an answer by tomorrow. If you agree, we will register our marriage straightaway. If you don't agree, I will not force you into it. But you will have got to go to the hospital." He looked calm, his voice low but succinct.
Summer fell into silence. She really needed to think about it.
"And...” he let his words hang for a second, then continued, "never think about running away. It will just be a waste of energy."
She shook her head when she felt her heart galloping again. "Marriage is so casual to him. As long as he doesn't hate me, he will marry me," she mumbled to herself.
She thought she was simple enough-her thinking was that it does not have to be a mutual affection, but at least there must be a feeling between two people.
Apparently, his idea of marriage was much casual than hers.
The complicated emotion in his eyes still perplexed her. But she could not tell what it was about.
The next early morning, right at first light, in the icy wind, amid the rustling of the tree branches, salt grain -like snow falling from the air added a touch of chilliness to the morning.
A black Land Rover was parked outside the apartment. Cigarette butts were strewn on the ground beside the vehicle. It was apparent that the Land Rover had been waiting there for some time.
Mark rested his left hand on the steering wheel, took out his mobile phone with his right hand, and dialed it.
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