The night wind blew head-on, carrying a faint fragrance from the man ahead, mixed with Percy Stanton's unique aristocratic aura.
Isabel Smith finally looked up and glanced at Percy, who had been dragging her along. From his profile, she could see that he was still angry.
Such Percy was a sight she had never seen before.
His elegance, indifference, and restrained allure were still there, but Isabel felt that this man's aura was far too overwhelming.
So powerful and inscrutable that she could not fathom it.
In her entire life, this was the first time she had felt this way about someone.
Isabel pursed her lips, not daring to speak, and let Percy lead her quickly by the hand.