However, compared to the increasingly deep color of David Redington's eyes, Leslie Howard appeared completely indifferent.
She ignored the heat in Redington's eyes and brushed past him, "Where's my overcoat? Where did you put it?"
The woman wore a white shirt, her smooth and slender long legs intertwined as she walked toward the sofa, utterly indifferent in front of Redington.
Leslie's gaze did not even glance at Redington; she was focused on searching for her clothes.
David Redington: "Why are you looking for your overcoat?"
Now it was almost three o'clock in the morning. She didn't return to bed to rest but insisted on searching for clothes in the living room.
There's no need to wear an overcoat to bed; even the shirt she's wearing now is superfluous.
"Of course, I'm looking for clothes to wear. Am I supposed to get up in the middle of the night to iron clothes?" Leslie didn't even turn her head as she opened the cabinet beside the living room.
