She Flash-Married To His Rival by Harber Venus

As her mind wandered, the car glided smoothly into the garage.

With efficiency, Barclay parked the vehicle, greeted by the bright glow of the garage lights. Then, he noticed Moira's rosy cheeks and the intensity in her gaze. "We've arrived," he remarked.

Moira snapped out of her reverie, glancing outside to realize they had reached their destination. "Oh, alright," she replied, swiftly unfastening her seatbelt and stepping out of the car. Yet, as her feet hit the ground, she felt a momentary dizziness. What was happening? Why did she feel a tad lightheaded?

"Leg troubling you?" Barclay inquired.

Moira had barely managed to stand upright when she awkwardly glanced at Barclay. "Not exactly, just a tad dizzy," she confessed.

It wasn't merely a touch of dizziness; a hint of warmth was also washing over her.

Moira instinctively reached up to her cheek, startled. "Am I running a fever?"

"You've been drinking," he stated flatly, not a question but a statement.

Moira pondered for a moment. "No, I only had orange juice with Cynthia when we went upstairs, and later, I had a glass of fruit juice while waiting for you." She hadn't touched any alcohol. Didn't he understand her well enough?

She wouldn't dare drink alcohol.

"That was fruit-infused wine!"

Moira looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Covington, I'm going to shower and turn in!"

While still clear-headed, she hurried back to lock her door, fearing the consequences if she were to get tipsy and make a spectacle of herself later!

With those words spoken, Moira swiftly ascended the stairs to her room.

skirt and made a soft

in her room, Moira swiftly removed her makeup, showered, and then lay on her bed

to drift off despite her

the dramatic plots Juliet would share in her beloved romance novels, where heroines were often drugged. But Moira wasn't in that

not unbearable.

lips again, Moira finally couldn't resist the urge to get up and

surprise, she spotted Barclay pouring himself a glass

his shower and

Fress, he perched

in high

one leg casually

other. Content

his posture and

of water and downing

up, she caught Barclay's

filled only

couldn't resist breaking the quiet. "Mr. Covington, is fruit

tolerance wasn't the highest, but

"Not particularly."

cheek thoughtfully. "I don't believe

at him,

could

something

mixed into the wine?"

completely out

feel drawn

What was going on?