Joanna looked at Moss, then suddenly threw her arms around his neck. “I don’t feel well, Mr. Wade. Please, have some mercy.”
Moss knew whenever she acted sweet, it meant trouble. As much as he wanted to give in to temptation, he remembered how she’d nearly fainted earlier and how fragile she looked now, so he held himself back.
“Joanna, are you doing this on purpose?”
She blinked up at him, all wide-eyed innocence. “On purpose, Mr. Wade? What are you talking about?”
She was totally teasing him.
Joanna tried to pull away, but Moss caught her hands and gently guided them lower.
She immediately tried to squirm free. “What are you doing?”
“Help me,” Moss said, his voice low.
Joanna shook her head. “No way!”
“Did I say you could refuse?” He leaned in and kissed her, silencing her protest.
…
Jessa stormed back into the villa, still fuming. The memory of Joanna’s cold shoulder stung, and she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She grabbed the vase on the coffee table and sent it crashing to the floor.
The sharp crack of breaking glass echoed through the room.
A maid rushed over. “Miss Jessa, what happened?”
Jessa snapped at her. “Get out! I don’t want to talk to anyone!”
The maid froze, too scared to move.
Just then, Louise walked in. She spoke softly to the maid. “It’s alright. You can go for now. Just come back and clean this up later.”

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