e Goodw

departure lounge and walked up to me,

lining the flawless lines of his broad shoul

a faint, barely detectable smell of rust-actually the lingeri

and steady, his gaze sweeping carefully over

friend, and gestured toward the now empty corridor: "My friend ran into some tr

Mrs. Sweeney. I'm Colin, Human Resources Manager at Polaris Air Cargo. The pilot from just now is und

noticing that Colin had add

an eyebrow: "Did you tell y

n Resources needed to update my emergency contact information.

dinates? Aren't you just a

actually the general manager of our flight department and our chief

, had been so frightened that he stammered when he s

easonable: "So you're General Manager Sweeney. I didn't know. My

w voice: "My flight is over. What about you? Have you f

ed her wits. She keenly sensed the terrifying, i

ampire lord. She hurriedly made an excuse: "Joseline, I have to

friend's retreating back helplessly, then turned

me?" Cyril invited. His tone was calm, but a fierc

s, but considering that the two of us were, after all, husband and wife in na

flight attendants passing through the airport, upon seeing Cyril, all r

o exceed what one would show an ordinary gene

l's usual strict management

to the passenger side and

Cyril's hand brushed inad

I instinctively shrank back

drew his hand and said in an extremely restrain

sted considerately: "After you finish flyi

tated black SUV. The corners of his lips curved into an

ror at Colin, who stood in front of the terminal looking as if a weight h

Sweene

back of my hand had brushed her cheek, her warm skin

tion; a mortal's body was too fragile, and I must ne