Suddenly, Sylvan Cheney held her hand.
His hand was cold, while Jasmine Yale's hand was warm.
Jasmine smirked, disdainfully saying, "Are you trying to get warm from me?"
Sylvan gazed into her bright eyes, a perpetual smile at the corner of his lips, his pupils filled entirely with her face.
He held her hand, and she did not pull away.
His large hand covered her small one, and the cold in his palm gradually warmed up.
It was as if ice had melted, and spring was blooming.
He loved watching her smile, loved seeing her clean, rosy face, loved listening to her speak, loved her every move... Was he going crazy?
Why did he have such intense feelings for a pregnant woman?
Sylvan laughed to himself.
Maybe he really was going crazy.
Lovesick crazy.
"Why are you staring at me? Do I look bad without makeup?"
The warmth in Sylvan's heart grew stronger. He held her hand, wrapping her soft little hand in his palm.
Seeing his hand was cold, Jasmine let him hold it a little longer.
