Early the next morning.
Inside Elizabeth Harris’ room, there was a scattering of clothes on the floor, emitting an ambiguous scent.
Peter Murray had long since awakened. He was on his side, one hand propped up on his head, his gaze straying to Elizabeth Harris’ sleeping face.
Elizabeth Harris’s neck, her chest, the marks everywhere, were enough to show how long they had been tossing and turning last night.
The sunlight bore through the cracks in the curtains and hit Elizabeth Harris’ face, and she rolled over in annoyance, facing Peter Murray.
Probably because Peter Murray’s gaze was too hot, the sleeping Elizabeth Harris felt something wrong and slowly opened her eyes and met Peter Murray’s eyes at once.
Elizabeth Harris’ gaze stalled and she pulled the quilt to cover herself tightly.
Peter Murray smiled lightly and said, “You slept late last night, do you want to sleep again?”
At that, Elizabeth Harris’s face heated up and she said, “You don’t care!”
She remembered how fierce Peter Murray had been last night, and how he had worked tirelessly for a long time.
He was always saying inexplicable things and would not stop until she answered in the affirmative.
Elizabeth Harris was a little embarrassed when she thought of this and dropped her eyes, suddenly losing her usual arrogance.
Elizabeth Harris lips twitched, coldly said: “Sleep is also finished, when you leave?”
Peter Murray did not feel any dissatisfaction when he heard such words again, probably because he had really thought about it, so that now he felt that Elizabeth Harris was very much like saying what she wanted to say, he said, “You rest first, I will go and make you breakfast.”
He said, without waiting for Elizabeth Harris to answer, Peter Murray got up from the bed, wrapped a bathrobe around himself, and then turned around and went to the kitchen.
Elizabeth Harris looked at Peter Murray’s back with indignation. This guy, so natural, really thinks this is his house!
At that time, Blanca Roach sitting in the passenger side, some helpless look at the side of Matthew Grant, clearly said yesterday was the first day of shooting, he had to accompany, and this morning said what the next day, afraid that she can not find the way, handy, still have to accompany.
This man is addicted.
Blanca Roach thought darkly.
Forty minutes later, the car pulled up at the shooting location, Blanca Roach got out of the car and saw Yvonne not far away.
Yvonne saw Matthew Grant and walked over with a smile on her face.
Seeing this scene, Blanca Roach couldn’t help but frown and whispered to Matthew Grant discontentedly, “Look, look, here comes your peach again.”
Matthew Grant put his arm around Blanca Roach’s shoulders so that there was almost no distance between them, and he raised his eyebrows, “So what, give me a peach forest, it’s not half as good as my wife.”
Blanca Roach gave him a blank look, “Boring!”
But the heart is sweet, and the whole person becomes dejected.
Yvonne walked up, as if she didn’t see Blanca Roach, and greeted Matthew Grant, “President Grant, good morning.”
She blossomed into a smile, showing what she thought was the sweetest expression.
Unbeknownst to her, in Matthew Grant’s eyes, except for his wife Blanca Roach, all other women are face-blind to him.
Matthew Grant didn’t even look at her, but raised his hand to fix Blanca Roach’s hair in front of his forehead, and after finishing it, he smiled at Blanca Roach, “Well, it’s beautiful.”
After doing this, he then responded to Yvonne with a faint, “Hmm.”
Then he pulled Blanca Roach to walk forward.
After several steps, Blanca Roach raised her face and smiled wryly at Matthew Grant, “Good performance.”