With feigned casualness, he declared, “I merely invited her for a drink.”
Bryson’s grip on Hannah’s waist tightened as he whispered, “Would you like to join him for a drink?”
Hannah’s frame shook with intensity. Bryson’s query rendered her rigid, her voice lost.
Bryson’s glance met Alick’s, a playful arch to his brows.
“She’s not keen.”
Alick teased, “I didn’t expect Mr. Mitchell to have such preferences.
I assumed your affections were reserved for Miss Moore.
Bryson’s smile turned sly.
“What concern is it of yours?”
A coolness crept into Alick’s demeanor.
“Since Mr. Mitchell is fond of her, I wouldn’t dream of interfering. Eva, do treat Mr. Mitchell well.”
“Understood,” Hannah said through clenched teeth. It wasn’t until Bryson escorted her into another room that she regained her composure.
Regaining her wits, she noticed Bryson lounging on the couch, wine in hand, eyes tracking her every move.
Hannah fidgeted with her dress, her voice tinged with confusion.
“What brings you here…”
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“Merely chance.”
Was it truly just chance?
She had a bone to pick with Brayden.
Holding the tray, Hannah took a step back and announced, “I’ll be on my way then.”
“Now? Wouldn’t that just raise his suspicions?”
Hannah paused, realizing the truth in the words. Alick had indeed seemed wary earlier.
If she ventured out at this moment and Alick had instructed his team to keep an eye on her, escaping trouble would be challenging.
“Why don’t you come and sit here?”
Bryson gestured to Hannah invitingly, a teasing grin on his face.