Clearly, Rosalind didn’t want to elaborate. She strolled forward in her black boots, her long hair falling to her waist, her legs long, slender, and strikingly pale.
But Warner noticed something unusual about her right hand. He suddenly lifted her wrist, his eyes narrowing. “What happened here?”
Rosalind waved it off. “I must have scraped it on a tree trying to avoid hitting the wrong person. It’s nothing, I’ll take care of it when I get back…”
Her words trailed off.
It was because of the man’s sudden movement. He leaned down, his thin lips pressing against her wrist. He carried an air of nobility, and though the gesture was daring, his touch was surprisingly gentle.
It wasn’t even a proper kiss, but the coolness of his lips was just enough to soothe the stinging heat from the cut.
Rosalind had never been this close to anyone before and tried to pull her wrist away.
But he held it fast.
The man was tall and lean in his bespoke black suit, the crimson bracelet on his wrist a stark contrast that amplified his ascetic aura to the extreme.
They were in the shadows, so no one could see them.
But darkness sometimes magnifies the senses.
Especially his cool, crisp scent—alluring and easy to get lost in. It paired with his low murmur, “I have to go to Ergo on business for a few days. I’ll be back Thursday.”
Rosalind felt a tingling numbness spread through her fingers. She shifted away from his lips, instinctively frowning. “Five days is fine, but you must be back for your next dose within ten days.”
Warner saw her push him away and smiled faintly. “I heard this is the best way to inhibit bacteria.”
Rosalind looked at him and muttered, “It’s only because it’s you. If it were anyone else, I’d have slapped them silly.”

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