Lorraine felt so embarrassed she could die.
Heat flushed across her cheeks, making the tips of her ears burn red. All she wanted was to finish this tour without any problems, without interruptions, without making a fool of herself in front of the one person whose opinion mattered most right now.
Yet, of course, the heavens had to send him at this exact moment.
"Mister Elijah," she said with a weary sigh, pressing her temple lightly as if his very presence gave her a headache, "I thought I was already clear the last five times."
Her tone was soft, polite even. "Please, I'm not interested. You shouldn't be wasting your time on a woman like me."
There was nothing wrong with Elijah, not on the surface.
He was tall, clean-shaven, and carried himself with the confidence of someone who believed in his own charm.
But Lorraine had long since grown numb to his flowery declarations. Besides, the man she was truly interested in was right here, holding her hand.
