Chapter 62: How are Miles Shaw's pectoral muscles? Are they nice to touch?

Even if Miles Shaw couldn't understand, the thought of Nora Hart being an artist made him comply with her needs.

Nora Hart, with a suit jacket over her head, was shivering and nestled in Miles Shaw's arms.

Miles Shaw, holding her, felt that her shivering was a bit too violent.

"Miss Hart?"

"I'm cold, I'm not shivering on purpose."

"Are you okay?" Miles Shaw stood in the elevator holding the person covered with the suit.

Nora Hart coughed a few times, her voice hoarse, with a kind of brokenness afterward: "Not good, my period started."

"How did you fall into the swimming pool?"

Nora Hart was furious and in her heart cursed Andrew Locke's ancestors for eighteen generations, this damn man... he must be interested in her, if he wasn't interested, why would he push her into the pool when she said those words? Ok ok, as long as this damn man is interested in her, she must find a way to grind him down.

If she can't get Andrew Locke, she isn't Nora Hart.