The tone of Tara Summer's final words were deliberately altered, laced with a touch of mockery.
Liam Yancey's handsome face still lacked any expression. He leaned in a little closer, cornering Tara who had nowhere to retreat. As the distance between them reduced, she could smell a mild scent of alcohol on him.
It was often said that a man's body reeked after heavy drinking. However, his was different - a cool, wild scent that was, unexpectedly, quite appealing.
Tara pressed tightly against the back of her chair, finding her own thoughts strange. She held up her hand to stop him from moving any closer.
But Liam Yancey remained nonchalant; his towering frame quickly descending on Tara, forcing her palm onto his chest.
The warmth radiating from him made her jolt back, her brows furrowed, "Liam Yancey, speak! By what right did you take the liberty of getting a marriage license? By what right?!"
