Max Shaw, with his advantage of height and long legs, tightly held the woman in his embrace.
No matter how Eva Ronan struggled, he shamelessly refused to let go, "If you still have energy to fight with me, let's go back to the bedroom and fight to our heart's content."
This blatant threat did have some effect.
Eva Ronan's struggle weakened, yet her expression grew colder.
Max Shaw's warm palm rested on the back of the woman's neck, gently rubbing, which caused shivers.
He looked straight ahead, his jaw pressed against Eva Ronan's temple, "These years, apart from you, I haven't had any other woman."
Eva Ronan felt he was being evasive, but her inner resentment was somewhat calmed.
"Max Shaw, I'm not blind."
She might not mention it, but she hadn't forgotten the scene in the Western restaurant.
The woman, with a soft voice and tears like falling flowers, was a trick that Eva Ronan could never master.
