Yet, in a swift evasion, Millie shifted her attention away, perching her chin arrogantly on the checkout counter. She presented a challenging, defiant curve of her head to him.

Nonchalantly lifting the menu of the sequestered room in which Marcus sat, Millie unfurled its pages, her eyes scanning the listed delicacies. She couldn’t suppress the gasp that escaped her lips; the display was nothing short of opulent. Each dish demanded a price so lofty that it could devour an average person’s monthly earnings.

Gently snapping the menu shut, Millie shook her head, casting off any thoughts that dared link her to Marcus.

Why should she, after all, spare a thought for him? Dressing other women in his clothes was his choice; he was free to lavish his attention where he desired. To her, he was a stranger, nothing more.

Her gaze fell on the dried jasmine flowers resting in the dessert corner. An idea dawned upon her: she decided to enrich the honey-lemon water she was concocting with jasmine flowers, a recipe known for its liver-cleansing properties.

Her improvisation was a resounding success. The addition of jasmine flowers to the honey lemon water not only augmented its health benefits but also imparted a lingering aroma of jasmine. This subtle floral scent amplified the delightfulness of the beverage.

Millie found it unexpectedly

her head, she was taken aback to find Marcus rooted in his spot, his gaze fastened on her with a relentless intensity that felt as if he

his scrutiny due to an

her deflect his gaze once again, Marcus tightened his

the evening. The night was a rare break from social engagements and an opportunity for

summoned his friends for a meal at this

absent. Marcus conjectured that she was likely

her smile soft and her eyes dancing with an undercurrent of affection. Yet Marcus dismissed her with a

soon as Millie re-entered the restaurant, her arresting

orchard, had also materialized here. The sight of

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