Before Ava could melt into the kiss, she quickly pressed her hands against his chest and pushed him back. Breathless, she whispered urgently, "Nicholas and Myra are still in the hall."
"Let me chase them away first."
"Wait…" Before Ava could stop him, he was already out the door. She blinked in surprise—then laughed, shaking her head.
Dylan approached the hall. Nicholas and Myra were deep in conversation, likely discussing the script.
But Dylan barely registered their words. He wasn't interested. Right now, all he cared about was getting rid of them so he could be alone with his wife.
"Ava is not feeling well," he said. "She wants to rest."
"Let her rest," Nicholas said, rising to his feet. "I'll also leave."
"Wait a moment. Drop Myra off on your way."