Resent, Reject, Regret by Aqua Summers

Chapter 562

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Chapter 562 It's Too Late for That

Deirdre was stunned. This was not what she was thinking at all! But before she could explain herself further, a new

gale tore through them. Seaside towns were no strangers to strong, chilling winds. Their journey was only 100

meters long, yet it felt like they had lost half of their body warmth by the 50-meter point.

Her body shuddered on its own. Brendan felt it coursing through his arm and drew her even more closely into his

chest. "About 50 meters left."

They braved the weather. It was as the waitress had predicted-the rain kept getting heavier. Had they chosen to

stay inside the restaurant, they would not have been able to come out.

The umbrella did a shoddy job of keeping the elements out of them. By the time they reached the car, Deirdre was

wet. The first thing Brendan did after getting inside was to turn on the heater before pulling out a towel from the

backseat. He passed it to her, stating, "Wipe yourself."

She thanked him out of reflexive courtesy and reached out to the man's fingers. It felt like touching a statue made

from ice.

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Her fingers were already as cold as they could get, while Brendan’s fingers were pretty much cryogenically frozen.

It shocked her to remember—after giving her his coat, Brendan was down to a shirt and a pair of pants. An attire

like that in a storm? No wonder he was in no better state than she was.

Deirdre hesitated for a moment and passed the towel back to him. "No, you wipe yourself dry. I at least had your

coat. Compared to you, I wasn't that wet."

Brendan did not take it. "I don't need it. It's too late for that."

He was right. He was completely soaked.

The rain had gotten so bad that the wipers could not do anything about their visibility. Left with no choice, the two

could only sit still in his car and stare at each other in uncomfortable silence.

The heater, working as hard as it could, still did not manage to dispel Deirdre's cold. Wet garments stuck onto her,

their chilliness seeping into her skin until her warmth was gradually replaced by its freezing temperature. She

covered her mouth just in time for a sneeze and shivered.

Brendan frowned. 'Take off your clothes."

Deirdre whipped her head in his direction in an instant, her cheeks turning pale.

It was the kind of reaction that clued Brendan in about his mistake. Licking his lips, he tried to explain, "I don’t have

any ulterior motive, okay? I’m just saying it will help stop the cold. All you have to do is to wipe your skin with a

towel, and you'll be dry. If you go on like this, you’ll catch a cold."

"I'd rather catch a cold."

She curled into herself defensively. It would have been easier to kill her than to make her undress in front of him.

Brendan furrowed his eyebrows in concern, but he pretended to be sarcastic and mocking. "Really? You're

pretending to be some goodie church girl at this time? You’re acting like I’ve never seen you naked before. But I've

done more than seen every orifice in your body, Deirdre. I've even touched it, rubbed it, played with it, haven’t I?"

"Shut up!"

Deirdre was livid, but her protest came out as a hushed, quiet rebuff. She felt even more ashamed than usual to

even talk about this, especially since they were stuck in this small, cramped car. Just the sounds of their breathing

together perturbed her.

Brendan could not talk her into anything. Left with no choice, he searched for any hotel nearby with his phone and

found only one within a few 100 meters. The area they were in was just that remote.

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He started the engine and began to drive at a snail’s pace. Once they reached the hotel, the car went silent and

stopped.

Deirdre reeled out of her trance and asked, "Are we there?"

"We're at a hotel."

She gave no reply. The journey to Declan's villa from there would take two hours at a minimum-let alone on a

weather as blinding as this. Given the poor road visibility, they might not be able to reach his house even if the rain

stopped.

Brendan disembarked, covered Deirdre with his coat, and brought her to the main hall. As she trembled from the

cold under the coat, he produced his credit card and asked for a room.

"We've got only one couple's room left, sir. Is that okay?" asked the receptionist. "If there's no objection, I'll make it

available for you now."

Deirdre raised her head, an ashen grimace shadowing her features. Brendan hesitated for a moment, too, but they

were not exactly in the position to choose.

He paid for the room and took the keycard.

Deirdre’s lips parted as if she had something to say, but nothing came out. She just took the elevator with him.

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Resent, Reject, Regret by Aqua Summers

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