After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 36: Apology

Leaving the tavern, Moira Sloan casually handed her purse to Connor Quinn.

Connor Quinn snuffed out the cigarette between his fingers and took the purse. He glanced down at her, his voice cool as he asked, "How much did you drink?"

Moira Sloan tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What’s it to you?" 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

With that, she reached out and linked her arm through his. She leaned in intimately, all smiles, but her words were as biting as a winter chill. "Connor Quinn, who do you think you are to me? What gives you the right to control me?"

Faced with her question, Connor’s Adam’s apple bobbed. "You’re right. I don’t have that right."

Moira scoffed. "Good. As long as you know."

Connor was still driving that same old-model Volkswagen. At first glance, the car looked even older than Moira.

A closer look didn’t do it any favors.

Moira Sloan got into the passenger seat and sank limply against the backrest.

Seemingly uncomfortable, she shifted in her seat several times before abruptly turning her head to look at Connor.

Sensing her gaze, Connor, who was in the middle of fastening his seatbelt, turned his head toward her.

After a few seconds, he reached back, grabbed a jacket from the rear seat, and tossed it to her. "Use this."

Moira was slightly tipsy. She thought she understood what he meant but wasn’t entirely sure. "Hm?"

Connor’s face was a blank mask. "Weren’t you complaining about the seat? Use my jacket as a cushion."

"Oh," Moira said.

Her uncertainty resolved, Moira didn’t make a fuss. She folded Connor’s jacket and placed it beneath her.

Moira had a narrow waist and curvaceous hips. The simple act of leaning forward and settling back down was filled with an effortless allure.

Connor watched her, and his gaze involuntarily darkened.

On the drive back to her apartment complex, Moira kept her head down, fiddling with her phone.

Then, as if remembering something, she looked up at Connor. "That staff member from the Environmental Protection Agency today... you know her?"

Connor’s expression was cold. "No."

Moira scoffed. "You don’t know her? Then why was she so friendly with you?"

’She certainly hadn’t shown that kind of warmth or efficiency when I was there.’

Guessing what she was thinking, Connor explained in a monotone, "She has a seventeen-year-old son in high school. Last summer, the kid came to me for a tattoo. I refused and called her."

Hearing this, Moira let out a mocking laugh. "I never would’ve guessed Master Quinn was a tattletale."

"I did it for his own good," Connor said calmly.

"Playing the good Samaritan?"

"Yes."

"Self-righteous," Moira sneered.

Hearing the derision in her voice, Connor simply focused on driving and said nothing more.

When the car reached Moira’s apartment complex, she grabbed her purse, pushed the door open, and got out without so much as a glance at Connor in the driver’s seat.

Connor sat in the car, watching her through the window. He lit a cigarette and slowly exhaled a plume of smoke.

When the cigarette was half-smoked, Connor snuffed it out, pushed open his door, and got out.

He caught up to Moira just as she was waiting for the elevator.

Her phone was glued to her hand, a small smile playing on her lips as she seemed to be texting someone back.

Sensing someone approach, Moira glanced up. Seeing it was Connor, she put her phone away and tilted her chin up to look at him.

They stared at each other. One second, two, three... The elevator doors slid open. Connor pushed her inside, and an instant later, his kiss descended, overwhelming and absolute.

Connor’s kisses were never as cold as his demeanor.

They burned with a fiery passion.

Moira stumbled backward under the onslaught of his kiss, and just as her back was about to hit the elevator wall, he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her into his embrace.

In the next instant, Connor spun them around, pressing his own back against the elevator wall. His hand on her waist tightened, inch by inch.

When the kiss finally broke, Connor rested his forehead against Moira’s, watching her gasp for breath.

Moira’s red lips were slightly parted. She gave him a coquettish glare. "Apologize."

Connor’s gaze was intense. "For what?"

Moira said, "For making me lose face in front of Shauna Duane today. Apologize."

Connor’s expression was cool, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk. "I’m sorry."

Moira snorted.

"Are you healed?" Connor asked.

"No," Moira replied stubbornly.

Moira had actually healed long ago, but she was the vengeful type and still held a grudge about that afternoon. She had no intention of letting him have his way.

A moment later, the elevator doors opened. Moira broke free from his embrace and stepped out. After walking a few steps, she turned to find Connor following her. "I’m still not healed. Why are you following me?"

Connor lowered his gaze and looked at her without a word.

Moira smiled scornfully. "Don’t tell me you’re planning on forcing yourself on me?"

Hearing that, Connor’s brow furrowed for a second before smoothing out. His voice was low and deep as he said, "That’s not entirely out of the question."