Qingran stormed toward the door, her breath uneven, her pulse still thrumming wildly beneath her skin.
Every step away from him should have cooled the heat simmering under her skin, but it didn't. The taste of him still lingered on her lips—hot, intoxicating, and undeniably dangerous.
Damn him.
Damn him for kissing her like that.
Damn him for making her body react before her brain could catch up.
She reached for the door handle, fingers tightening around the cool metal, determined to put as much distance between them as possible.
But before she could twist it open, a strong arm wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her back against a hard, familiar body.
"You're running?" Yizhou's voice was low, smooth, and edged with amusement. His breath was hot against her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "That's unlike you, sweetheart."
She gritted her teeth, refusing to let him get under her skin. "I'm leaving because I want to, not because—"
