The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge

Chapter 164

A blinding beam of light suddenly swept over, and Victoria instinctively raised her hand to shield her face.

As her eyes adjusted, she realized who was standing before her-it was McNeil.

He stared at her, his gaze icy, expression unreadable.

"Do you have any idea that everyone's out there looking for you?"

Victoria honestly didn't know. At that moment, the only thing she wanted was an explanation for why Violet's photographer had lured her out here, only to vanish into thin air.

If she hadn't had some wilderness survival training—and even won a few tough competitions—someone like her, just an ordinary woman, probably would have been scared half to death.

"Oh," she replied, noncommittal.

herself to McNeil. The dampness from the storm outside had

perched near the mountaintop, the temperature inside

heard his shallow, quick breaths; he sounded almost out of breath, as if he'd rushed

to him. His rain jacket was soaked through, evidence that he'd been caught in

word, he knelt and started making a fire-his movements swift, practiced, nothing like someone used to

me a hand," he said, barely glancing her

his dripping jacket and offered it, she didn't take it. Instead, he

the fire to life. As warmth began to seep into the air,

only by the steady trickling of a stream nearby and the relentless pounding of rain

up with her head on her knees, exhaustion pressing her

warmth wrapped around her. Someone's arms

to push McNeil away, but his grip only

with a crowd around, you didn't mind burying your face in my chest. Now it's just the two of us, and