Brushing past him, she headed for her car.

Brian reached out, pulling her back gently. “Let’s head back together.”

Casting him a cool glance, Rosalynn’s lips curled up in a frigid smile.

“I’d rather not. Your car’s been contaminated.”

Finding himself at a loss for words, Brian chuckled. She was more jealous than he thought.

“Take the car for a cleaning tomorrow and have the interior redone,”

Brian told the driver.

driver nodded, accepting

car door. Then, without another word,

demeanor, moving around to the passenger

with the seatbelt, he leaned over to clip it

such thoughtfulness when they’d

a sidelong glance at his chiseled profile and couldn’t help but scoff, “You don’t have to butter me up, Brian, unless

her, a glint of amusement in his eyes. His low chuckle echoed in

“Jealous?”

an unhidden delight that only served to

“Don’t touch me with the same

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