Ever the incorrigible pervert, Fane would not have been drawn to a vampish woman like Keira otherwise.
Predictably, he was not able to take his eyes off Jennifer from the second he laid eyes on her.
Such was the appeal of Jennifer's exquisite features and fair complexion that not even the loose-fitting clothing she had on was able to detract from her luscious curves.
“Hello, Ms. Wilson. I'm Fane Grayson.”
Fane extended a hand toward Jennifer. Though he appeared to have done so out of politeness, what he really wanted was to get a feel of Jennifer's hand.
Unexpectedly, Jennifer merely smiled and showed no inclination to share a handshake with him.
That entire sequence did not sit well with Keira, who went on to hold down Fane's paw. “We're not in the office, and you're not meeting a client. Surely there's no need for you to be so formal,” she quipped in good humor.
Fane, too, laughed along in response. “Oh, my bad. Old habits die hard, you know. Have you all placed your orders yet? Shall we have ourselves something to drink?”
When Frank brought them the menu while Fane was speaking, none of them expected that the latter would instruct Frank directly without even reviewing the items that were available. “A set of your signature course meals for each of us, and then pop a bottle of '75 Latife for me.”
“Will do, Mr. Grayson.”
Inferring from Fane's displays of generosity which were quite a departure from his usual ways, Keira adjudged that he must have taken a liking to Jennifer.
Unable to contain herself, Keira mused, “You must be really close with your boyfriend, Jennifer. The two of you looked so sweet together holding hands at the door that it gave me goosebumps.”
Hearing that made Fane's eyes narrow subtly.
Although Jennifer was not his girlfriend, hearing about the woman he fancied holding another man's hand nonetheless offended him.
Blushing coyly, Jennifer merely glanced quietly toward Donald.
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