Winona Wallace thought so, but didn't notice David Redington's face growing colder and colder.
The cold indifference between his brows gradually turned into an undisguised icy aura.
As Elizabeth Henson was enthusiastically talking with the script in hand, David Redington slightly furrowed his dark eyebrows and glanced at him coldly: "It's already two o'clock now, aren't you tired?"
If it weren't for Elizabeth Henson saying early on that he'd come over tonight to discuss the script, David wouldn't have even opened the door tonight.
Thinking of sweet and enticing Leslie Howard lying naked, wrapped in a blanket on the big bed inside.
Her skin exposed outside the blanket might still be covered with marks of his affection.
David Redington's dark blue almond-shaped eyes couldn't help but darken, becoming more profound.
