"Relax." Anthea turned and walked towards the edge of the reef.
Sherman watched her go, her long legs swaying in his view.
Suddenly, that strange sensation of a racing heart and breathlessness hit him again.
Thump, thump, thump—
His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest.
Sherman slightly furrowed his brow.
Even Anthea couldn't figure out what was wrong with him.
Could it be...
Some sort of terminal illness?
After swimming several laps in the sea, Anthea made her way back to shore, planning to head to the villa for a quick shower and change of clothes before enjoying the seaside sunset.
As she reached the shore, she noticed Sherman lying on a beach lounge chair, eyes gently closed, seemingly asleep.
A bright red rosary was clutched in his hand, its tassel winding through his fingers, accentuating his already pale skin, making it appear almost translucent under the shade of the beach umbrella.
He seemed to exude a mix of austerity and allure, seemingly unapproachable, yet utterly captivating.
Anthea looked down at Sherman from her vantage point.
She realized.
This guy was extraordinarily handsome.
At least.
In her past life, she had never seen anyone quite like him.
With sharp brows, a high nose, and thin lips almost pressed into a line.
How could such a good-looking person be so detached from worldly desires?
Being a sucker for good looks, Anthea couldn't help but lean in for a closer look, noticing not a single flaw on his face, his eyelashes long enough to rival a girl's.
Aside from the sound of the waves.
The clearest thing Anthea could hear was his breathing.
Shallow.
Yet profoundly stirring.
Just then, Sherman suddenly opened his eyes.
Their gazes collided unexpectedly.
Sparks flew.
The atmosphere turned delicate.
Both were momentarily stunned.
Anthea was the first to recover, trying to act as if nothing had happened, "Sherman, I'm going to take a quick shower. Can I have the car keys?"
"You know how to drive?" Sherman asked, his expression neutral.
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