After Benny was seated, the driver closed the door, circled the vehicle, and took his place behind the wheel.
“Mr. Clifford, do you intend to assist that lady? She doesn’t strike me as particularly sharp. I doubt she’ll be of any use to our scheme.”
Benny’s expression remained icy as he withdrew a cigarette, placed it between his lips, and ignited it with a flick of his lighter.
Inhaling deeply, he let out a stream of smoke, his gaze narrowing into a chilling glint.
“A woman who lacks cunning is easier to manipulate. Matthew values Stella greatly. It will be intriguing to watch him in distress.”
The next morning, Stella awoke to find Matthew still in the throes of sleep.
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She caressed his face, pleased to feel the warmth of his skin.
She dared to reach higher, her fingers brushing his eyelashes, soft and lush.
Intent on feeling them again, she was taken by surprise as her wrist was caught.
In an instant, she found herself pulled into his embrace.
“What are you doing?” Matthew’s voice was rough with sleep.
Caught in the act, Stella’s cheeks warmed. She cleared her throat, shifting the focus.
“How’s your stomach now?”
“The pain’s gone,” Matthew replied, planting a soft ki*s on her cheek, his whisper tickling her ear.
“Will you be at the shoot today?”
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“Yes,” Stella confirmed, glancing at the clock.
“It’s time we got up.
Having said that, she nudged Matthew’s shoulder.
“Release me, please.
I need to get up.”
“I’ll take you there,” Matthew offered, raising an eyebrow as he let her go.
Freshened up, they both stepped out.
Matthew drove, his mind on the previous day’s events. With a concerned furrow of his brow, he advised, “If Luka bothers you again, just let me know.”
“There’s no need,” Stella interjected quickly, confidence in her voice.