Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed



Roseanne was puzzled.

York replied, "Yeah, he's the boss."

Roseanne sighed heavily and reluctantly dialed Corley's number...

Her declaration from the other day, "You, my friend, are too cunning for your own good. It's best we keep our distance," wasn't just talk.All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

The guy was too slick, a real fox. The slightest lapse in judgment and you'd find yourself ensnared in one of his traps.

So, the best and most effective strategy Roseanne could come up with was to stay away.

Yet, no sooner had she vowed this than she found herself reaching out to him again.

Talk about a slap in the face.

Meanwhile, York hung up his phone and glanced back at Leda, still snoring away in bed, and his irritation flared.

"Who insisted I be on time, not a minute late?! And what do I get? I'm here, and you're still in dreamland! I've been cooling my heels for forty minutes now, Leda. Don't you have a conscience?!"

Leda in bed stirred, then rolled over, continuing her slumber.

York was baffled.

Fuming, he approached the bed. "Tell me, did you go out partying again last night?"

As he interrogated her, his eyes scanned the room like radar, checking every corner.

Thankfully, there were no signs of another man.

Suddenly, his gaze fixed on the nightstand.

Two glasses?!

A rush of irrational anger surged through York, fierce and swift.

"Leda Reynolds!"

Thwack!

A pillow flew at him, hitting him squarely on the head.

Leda sat up, visibly irritated. "Can't you ever shut up? If you can wait, then wait. If not, get lost!"

No one was allowed to disrupt her sleep!

York was dumbfounded.

She dared to talk back with such righteous indignation?!

"Leda "

"Get lost!"

York was nearly livid enough to become a cartoon character.

Fine, he'd leave! Who was he afraid of?!

Just as he was about to stride away, leaving her with the image of his dignified departure, something stopped him in his tracks.

He cursed under his breath.

Another half hour passed, and Leda finally woke up.

Yawning, she lazily ran a hand through her tousled hair, the picture of ease and comfort.

Then, she paused. "...Why are you still here?"

York, seated on the sofa opposite the

shou eplied somberly, "Oh, savet just leave and take the Sovet

me to see my mom?"

Right, a week ago, York's mom had invited Leda over for the weekend.

Leda had agreed without hesitation.

And today was that day.

Yesterday when York reminded her Leda was busy and had tossed off, "Sure, Kine o'clock sharp tomorrow morning. Be late, and you're dead."

And what happened?

He was on time, and she was-still-sleeping!

Leda blinked in confusion. "...Did I really say nine o'clock?" York scoffed, "I have the recording to prove it."

Reaching for his phone, he added, "You think I'm weird for recording calls? There's an old saying, 'Trust no one.' Guess it came in handy, huh?"

Leda rolled her eyes.

"Fine, I forgot... Wait, how did you get into my place?" She realized belatedly.

York replied, "I used the code to get in."

"And how do you know my code?"

"That night at the bar, you told me yourself. Forgot?"

"Did I really say that?"