She didn't even have time to think too much about it.
The corner of Thomas Shannon's mouth lifted, signaling that he had clearly misunderstood her meaning.
Sophie Sullivan immediately deflated like a popped balloon and lay on the silk quilt, blowing away the hair on her forehead.
He must have misunderstood my meaning.
Could he have mistaken it for me being jealous?
What was there for me to be jealous about? It was just a telephone call.
Besides me, who else could possibly catch his eye?
Thomas Shannon stood up, walked into the bedroom, and gently closed the door behind him.
He came to her bedside and slowly leaned down, his devastatingly handsome face, alight with a roguish charm, drawing closer.
Sophie Sullivan raised her hand and touched his face. "Trying to tempt me into committing a crime, Young Master Shannon?"
"If it's you, I'll let you commit any crime unconditionally."
"You still haven't told me whose telephone call that was."
"My father's telephone call."
