Abraham Redington hesitated slightly, then his slender fingers drew back.
He stood up, parted from the warmth of Molly Wellington's gentle body, and sat back properly.
His azure eyes stared straight ahead, and he spoke in an extraordinarily cold tone: "Relish it? Molly Wellington, you're overestimating yourself. I'm not interested in your immature figure."
"You..." He took advantage and still called her immature.
How was she immature? After all, she... she...
"Forget it, why am I saying so much to you?" Molly Wellington muttered gloomily and adjusted the seatback to sit up straight again.
But as soon as she sat upright, the collar she had just pulled together fell open again, revealing her snow-white skin.
Abraham Redington, who was glancing over, "... "
"You... don't look!" Molly Wellington hurriedly clutched her collar, her face, already tinged with pink, turned even redder.
The button was nowhere to be found; she had no idea where it dropped.
