'How should I respond to this? How could I not be attracted? But what are we to each other? We're just fake spouses!' Moira sighed inwardly. Casting a quick glance at Barclay, Moira swiftly remarked, "You should go grab dinner. I'm tired. I'm heading back to bed. Goodnight!" With that, she turned on her heels and bolted.

In less than five or six seconds, there was a resounding thud of the door being shut.

Barclay gazed at the closed door of the guest room, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're attracted, aren't you?"

'Hey, great,' thought Barclay.

Lying on the bed, Moira could hear her heart racing. She was glad she had bolted. Otherwise, she might have been in serious trouble.

Juliet was right. Any woman would be intrigued by a man like Barclay.

Moira couldn't help but sigh at her own unwarranted thoughts.

'Get a grip, Moira! You're in a professional partnership now, each taking what you need. When the time comes, you'll part ways and walk your separate paths. Falling for a business partner is just a cliché from novels!' she wondered.

After tearing apart her fantasies, Moira regained some composure.

She realized Barclay's earlier question was probably a test.

Was it because she had been too forward the other night?

Moira thought carefully and admitted to herself that she might have been a bit too much.

The doctors had said it was just some aphrodisiacs, nothing serious!

But what about her?

Upon thinking back to that night, Moira's face felt like it was on fire.

Did Barclay see through her charade?

Taking advantage of someone while intoxicated was really low-class.

Moira bit her lip, feeling remorseful, and resolved never to stoop to such behavior again.

She decided to maintain some decorum with Barclay from now on.

Moira had a dream where she remained unchanged, wanting to get intimate with Barclay while intoxicated once more.

But this time, instead of reacting as before, Barclay looked at her coldly as she made her move. "Ms. Jimenez, you are not drunk, right?" he questioned. "No, I am," she replied.

"How can a drunk person claim to be drunk? Three strikes and you're out. This is the third time, Ms. Jimenez. Don't forget. We're only in a business marriage. Please, don't harbor any foolish fantasies!"

Moira abruptly opened her eyes to the incessant ringing of her alarm clock beside her.

She gazed at the ceiling and felt shy at the memory of Barclay's words in her dream.

Barclay in her dream had spoken the truth. She shouldn't indulge in foolish fantasies. Gathering her thoughts, she rose from bed and began her morning routine.

When she walked over to the dining table, she saw Barclay already there, having breakfast.

Barclay glanced at her. "Didn't you sleep well?"

Moira shook her head. "No, not really."

She sat down opposite him, and Rose brought her breakfast before heading back to the kitchen.

With just the two of them left in the

dining room, Moira's mind was consumed by Barclay's words her dream. "Please, don't harbor any foolish fantasies."

Lowering her head, Moira found her breakfast suddenly tasteless as she chewed.

She had no appetite and barely managed to eat a third of her usual portion.

Barclay, finishing his meal, noticed her lack of interest and furrowed his brow. "Are you full?"

Moira glanced at him. "I'm just not feeling very hungry."

Barclay's gaze remained fixed on her. "Is it because of yesterday? I'm sorry. I got drunk yesterday afternoon and acted inappropriately toward you."

Moira thought about yesterday

afternoon's kiss, and her face flushed red immediately. Her eyes became evasive. "No, it's not that. I just have a poor appetite."

If she were to be honest, yesterday's kiss was something she had willingly allowed to happen.

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