Mitchel seemed taken aback by her gesture, and his hands remained still.

Raegan then rested her head against his chest, comforted by the familiar scent of cedarwood.

But then, his harsh voice broke through her reverie. "Get up."

Raegan snapped awake. How had she confused reality with a dream? She froze and then remembered her goal was to reconnect with him and revive their past relationship.

And here she was, pretending to be intoxicated. Even though it was an act, she knew she couldn't squander this moment. With renewed determination, she tightened her grip around Mitchel's neck and said in a playful, tipsy voice, "No, I won't get up unless..."

She playfully wrapped her legs around his calf, teasing him, “Unless you carry me."

Mitchel's lips tightened, and he stared at Raegan intently, his eyes turbulent as if stormy seas churned behind them.

Perhaps it was the lingering smell of wine that made Raegan's head spin slightly. At that moment, her heart raced, feeling as though she were truly inebriated. How else could the man who haunted her dreams and consumed her thoughts day and night stand right before her? How long had it been since she felt his strong chest or embraced him fully?

At that moment, Raegan nearly wept with relief, grateful to have Mitchel back. Despite the suffering, she was still thankful because he was here, alive. “Mitchel, thank you for coming back."

Raegan longed to embrace Mitchel and weep, telling him how much she missed him.

But Mitchel's tone was sharp and chilling. "Stop acting and get up.”

It was as if a cold splash of water had been thrown on Raegan's face, her arms stiffening before dropping to her sides.

"This is not a salon, Miss Foster. Please refrain from entering without permission next time," Mitchel admonished.

Mitchel's piercing gaze swept over Raegan, his authoritative presence overwhelming, making Raegan inexplicably tense.

Mitchel added, his tone stern and unyielding, "This lounge included, understood?"

After an exhausting day, Raegan was met only with his indifference, and a surge of grievances rose within her. She raised her head, locking eyes with him, and said with restrained emotion, “You previously assured me that I could come and go as I pleased, including this lounge."

"That was in the past." Mitchel straightened himself and laughed coldly. "Do you really take every word from a man at face value? Miss Foster, are you that naive?"

"Mitchel, are you being this harsh just to drive me away?" Raegan held his icy gaze, her expression firm. "I won't be driven away by you."

“Just to drive you away?" Mitchel disdainfully glanced at her. “Miss Foster, do you really think you're that important..."

Suddenly, Raegan silenced his cold words by kissing him. Her defiance peaked. He might resist her, but could he resist her touch?