Nia Mitchell's small face was bright red, her luminous big eyes blinking as she looked at Maxwell Peary.
Had she really done so many embarrassing things last night?
"Um…"
COUGH, COUGH.
"I think I'm late for work."
The words that were on the tip of her tongue took a different turn. Nia Mitchell was so embarrassed she wanted to bite off her own tongue.
"Nia Mitchell, don't you think you should explain the matter of divorce?"
Maxwell Peary's face darkened. Thinking about last night's situation filled him with simmering anger.
When he had carried her back last night, she had kept twisting and struggling. Not only had it aroused him, but she also kept shouting that she didn't want a divorce.
The butler and a house full of servants were all watching, making it seem as if he were some heinous villain.
God knew how much he wanted to slap this Rabina Mitchell in his arms a few times, shake her awake, and demand to know what on earth this "divorce" nonsense was all about.
