Sitting in the car, Durrell Landon lowered his head and kissed her. The kiss was long and scorching. He only released her when she felt a bit breathless, but still seemed reluctant to part, giving her a tender peck at the corner of her lips.
"Once we're back at Imperial View Manor, rest up a bit. Tonight, accompany me to a banquet."
"Whose banquet?"
"Violet Foote's birthday party."
The invitation had arrived several days ago, and he had tossed it aside in his study, initially not planning to go. But now, he had changed his mind.
...
In the evening.
Quiana Sutton woke up from the large bed in the master bedroom, opened the window, took a few breaths of fresh air, and looked down at the scene below. Imperial View Manor indeed deserved its reputation as a world-class masterpiece; even in the desolate autumn, it exuded an extraordinary beauty.
