I Married the President-Chapter 75: Not Ready Yet

"Mm," the man responded, and then they lapsed into silence.

The silence was awkward.

Dreading the prospect of forced small talk, Claire Sinclair simply closed her eyes.

She must have been exhausted, because she fell asleep before long, her head bobbing with the motion of the car.

Adrian Quincy’s brow furrowed slightly. He reached out and gently guided her head to rest on his shoulder, steadying her.

He glanced down, his deep eyes gazing at her pretty face, so close to his. Overcome with emotion, he couldn’t stop himself from pressing a soft kiss to her hair. Only then did his heart feel at ease.

The car drove at a steady pace, arriving at Evergreen Garden some twenty minutes later.

Adrian Quincy carried her out of the car and into the living room. He was just about to head upstairs when she suddenly opened her eyes.

Seeing his perfect side profile, Claire Sinclair jumped and began to struggle, wanting to be put down.

Worried she might fall, Adrian Quincy quickly set her down on her feet.

Claire Sinclair immediately took a step back, her back hitting the wall unexpectedly.

The next second, he closed the distance, trapping her between his arms and the wall. His hot, masculine scent washed over her, sending a tingling sensation through her, like the first thaw of spring.

THUMP, THUMP...

Her heart was in turmoil.

Claire Sinclair kept her head down, whispering, "What are you doing..."

His intentions were, in fact, perfectly clear.

He slowly leaned in, pressing his lips firmly against hers. The kiss was ravenous, a devouring bite as he gradually consumed her mouth with his own...

This uncontrollable passion was like the placid surface of a lake being shattered, instantly churning up a monstrous wave.

It wasn’t until something hard pressed against her that Claire Sinclair snapped out of it as if waking from a dream. Unfamiliar feelings churned within her, and she shoved him away forcefully. "No! We can’t do this! I’m not my sister!"

Faced with her sudden resistance, and especially after hearing such a foolish thing to say, the man’s spiraling desire was instantly extinguished.

Adrian Quincy took a small step back, breathing heavily. "I’m sorry," he said.

He had never been so impulsive with a woman before. Yet with her, he’d completely lost control, like some reckless, inexperienced teenager. It was an unprecedented lapse in his self-control.

Claire Sinclair clearly hadn’t expected him to apologize. A pang of regret went through her, and she lowered her head, not daring to meet his guilt-ridden gaze. "I’m not ready... Please, don’t touch me. We can’t..."

"Alright." To her surprise, he agreed.

Claire Sinclair’s head snapped up to look at him. Something felt wrong.

Adrian Quincy turned his back to her and began straightening his suit.

Suddenly faced with his stark, withdrawn back, Claire Sinclair felt a twinge of guilt. Still, she didn’t want to lose herself in the moment, so she said nothing and quickly re-buttoned the collar he had undone.

Meanwhile, Adrian Quincy finished adjusting his suit. Still with his back to her, he said, "Get your driver’s license when you have time. I’ll buy you a car so you can drive yourself to work."

With that, he strode toward the door.

Claire Sinclair asked anxiously, "You’re leaving?"

"I made dinner. You can heat it up yourself." With that, the man was gone.

Claire Sinclair raised an eyebrow. ’What did he mean by that last sentence?’

’Did I hear him correctly?’

She turned and walked into the dining room, where she saw three dishes and a soup, untouched, set on the table.

It was only then that Claire Sinclair realized he hadn’t just picked her up on his way from the office. He had come home first, made her dinner, and then gone out of his way to get her.

He so rarely had time to come home for a meal, and she had just driven him away...

’No, maybe it’s not too late!’

Claire Sinclair ran to the door and threw it open, just in time to see his car pulling out of the driveway.

Too late...

Dejectedly, Claire Sinclair closed the door, her heart churning with regret. ’What on earth am I doing?’

’Claire Sinclair, you’re such an idiot!!!’