"I don't know," Wyatt Perry mumbled through his feast, responding vaguely to Claudia Ross' question.
He had pondered over this question many times, yet never found an answer.
He didn't know why he had fallen in love with her.
Because she was beautiful?
There were many women more beautiful than her who had thrown themselves at him, but none had stirred his heart.
Because she had a nice figure?
A handful was just enough to fill his grasp, nothing spectacular.
Love was strange like that, sowing its seeds in his heart when he least expected it, and quickly growing into a towering tree.
Claudia Ross was truly one-of-a-kind.
"Huff, huff..."
Her face flushed and heart pounded as she wriggled her waist, trying to escape, but his hold was too firm, leaving her no room to flee.
In the moonlight, Claudia Ross could see the taut lines of Wyatt Perry's face, his thin lips pressed into a straight line, and the veins on his neck pulsating.
He was still enduring.