The cigarette between his fingers had burnt down to a stub. The ash, glowing with its last embers, fell onto the back of his hand, but he didn't even flinch.
Clara finished discussing matters with Anders and emerged to Ian's solitary figure. She sauntered over, her voice a gentle whisper. "Ian, what's wrong?"
At the sound of her voice, Ian's heart skipped a beat. He crushed the cigarette butt underfoot. A forced smile stretched across his melancholic face. "Nothing, just felt like having a smoke, sorry. I'll be more mindful next time."
He pulled her close, planting a tender kiss atop her head, his voice rough with weariness, "I'm going to check on Grandma Rose at home. You rest up. I'll be back soon."
Clara knew without guessing that visiting Grandma Rose was just a front. The real deal was settling scores with Leonora. No doubt, he had found out Leonora's connection to his father's critical illness.
She watched him, her heart in agony. Her cool fingertips gently smoothed the furrow between Ian's brows, her voice soft. "Ian, she and you are different. I won't hold her sins against you. That wouldn't be fair to you."
Ian's icy heart was instantly enveloped in warmth, his eyes growing hot. Emotion surged in his dark eyes, impossible to hide.
He tilted her chin up, his breath hot as it spilled over Clara's flushed cheeks. "Clara, are you trying to make me fall hopelessly in love with you?"
His head dipped, lips grazing hers, his voice a husky whisper, "If you weren't pregnant, I'd make love to you right now."
His eyes glowed with deep affection, his voice laced with an uncontrollable desire. She always knew his heart and always stood on neutral ground when judging matters. Despite the multiple times Leonora had hurt her, she continued to trust him.
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