Maria was getting exhausted from trying to explain and validate her platonic relationship with Claude.
That man had a wife whom he loved very much.
Paris leaned forward. “I have also told you that it is bullsh*t." He pulled back, turned his cheek the other way, and crossed his lean arms across his hard chest. “Obviously, you know nothing about men."
Immediately, Sarkon's face sprung into her mind. His last words rang in her mind.
Was it true that she didn't understand what he wanted? Maybe that's why he didn't choose her to be his wife. That was why he preferred someone else.
Tears swarmed to her eyes.
Was loving him not enough to be his wife? Why couldn't she be his wife? Why didn't he love her? Why didn't he see her as a woman?
Heat rushed to her face, scalding her snow-skin
