Lu Yinchu stood in front of the full-length mirror, his gaze, however, was cast toward the little woman behind him who was trying her best to diminish her presence. He uttered, "Nanxi..."
"Huh?" Nanxi snapped out of her thoughts in reply. The man extended an arm, the scratch marks still vivid on his arm. Nanxi cleared her throat, realizing what he was asking. She was supposed to fasten his cufflink!
But, why her?
She wasn't his servant, how could he expect this of her!
Fuming internally, Nanxi dared not to disobey Lu Yinchu's "order". She jumped up as if she was a lapdog, and started buttoning his cuff.
She was meticulous in her task, her warm fingers occasionally brushing against his skin. This made a certain man involuntarily recall the scene of his calloused fingers sliding on her soft skin the previous night, sending chills down his spine.
