Chapter 17 The next morning, as Tara stepped out of her room and was about to close the door, she noticed a tall figure standing in the hallway not far away from her. Her eyes quickly darted to the figure, and she was surprised to find it was Lance, who was staring intently at her. Tara pondered why he was standing there watching her. Shouldn't he be ignoring her like usual, given how much they all seemed to despise her? She averted her gaze and closed the door.

Then she turned to head toward the pool. But after only a few steps, she noticed from the corner of her eye Lance walking toward her. Assuming he had some instructions for her, she stopped and waited for him. Lance walked toward her with long, confident strides. His tall, lean frame, broad shoulders, and narrow waist gave him an imposing presence, making Tara feel a heavy pressure as he stood before her. She instinctively took a step back. "How can I help you, Mr.

Swain?" He glanced past her at her room. "Is that your room?" Tara hesitated, then nodded, "Yes, Mr. Swain." She thought that he was displeased that she lived so close to them and wanted her moved farther away. Lance stared into her almond-shaped eyes briefly before saying, "If you need anything, just let Mr. Oakley know." The look of bewilderment in Tara's eyes deepened. She was extremely surprised by his concern. She didn't know what was going on with him.

After all, she thought that he hated her. She didn't believe for a second that the incident in the sunroom could have bridged any gap between them, not that she wanted to get closer to him. In fact, she would rather stay as far away as possible. "Thank you, Mr. Swain, but I don't need anything." Lance ignored her polite refusal. "Are you going to breakfast now?" Tara shook her head. "Mr.

Farrell is going for a swim, so I need to prepare towels and other supplies." Lance was surprised that Soren was going for a swim. Lance rarely swam, usually opting to work out in the villa's gym instead. "Go ahead." Lance didn't delay her further from her task. Tara nodded and turned to leave. At first, she walked slowly, then gradually sped up. For the first time ever, she felt that Soren wasn't so terrifying after all. She thought that Lance was truly hard to read that day.

He gave her an indescribable feeling, as if she had somehow become the target of his attention. He was thinking. Someone of Lance's status would only despise her even looking at her. She gently knocked herself on her own head. She couldn't believe what she was thinking; it was probably out of disdain. As for his earlier concern? She reckoned that it was just empty politeness. Tara wheeled a cart to the poolside. Once there, she sat on a lounge chair and waited for Soren to arrive.

Tara prepared the towels and drinks. Ten minutes later, Soren strode in wearing a white bathrobe. Before he even got close, his lazy voice reached her ears. "Well, well, well. Look who it is." Tara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Good morning." Soren smirked as he approached. "I was wondering why you'd stopped flirting with us lately.

Turns out you really did change tactics." He lifted her chin with a finger, the smoothness of her skin making him pause for a fraction of a second before he schooled his expression and studied her beautiful face. "Are you playing hard to get? Or is this just a strategic retreat?" Tara felt his presence closing in on her, making her heart race. She tried her best to ignore the uncontrollable shyness creeping in. After all, she had never been this close to a man before.

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Her ears turned pink as she pulled away from his touch. Forcing her voice to remain steady, she said, "Mr. Farrell, I've only heard you singing. I've never seen your acting. If you ever took up acting, I'm sure you'd excel at it too." Soren loved it when she clapped back. He laughed heartily and said, "I know you're mocking me for being dramatic, but…" Like last time, he leaned in close, watching her blush deepen.

"You're still shy after all." His gaze drifted from her face to her flushed earlobes. A tantalizing thought flashed through his mind, wiping the teasing smile off his face. Tara, flustered, took a step back. "Mr. Farrell, are you here to win or to tease me?" Soren straightened to his full height and looked down at her. Then, he scolded, saying, "Just to disappoint you, but the pool is far more appealing than you." Tara chuckled in relief. Finally, he was acting normal again.

But seeing her relieved expression only amused Soren further. "Your acting is impeccable. You've mastered the art of playing hard to get." Tara had had enough. Without warning, she stepped forward and yanked his bathrobe off. "Hey! Hey! Why did you take my bathrobe! You pervert! Are you really in that much of a hurry to see my abs-" Before he could finish speaking, Tara planted her bare foot against his swim-trunk clad backside. Soren, however, reacted lightning-fast and caught her ankle.

The delicate softness of her skin surprised him. Her foot was so small, he could wrap his hand around it completely. Tara had meant to kick him into the pool, but she hadn't expected him to react so quickly. Instead, he caught her foot and held it firmly. Her cheeks turned bright red. "L-Let go." Soren wasn't that unreasonable. He released her when she said that, only to be promptly kicked into the pool anyway. Water exploded upward as he hit the surface, some splashing onto Tara.

Fortunately, her uniform wasn't soaked too badly. It would dry soon enough. Soren resurfaced and wiped the water from his face. Then, he reproached her, "Tara, that was a dirty move!" He had let go, yet she still kicked him! "Just swim already. You talk too much." Tara sat back on the lounge chair, propping her chin on her hand as she watched the nuisance in the pool. Soren narrowed his eyes. "You dare look down on me?" Tara was in no mood to humor him. "I do.

What are you going to do about it?" Soren stared at her for a long moment before suddenly bursting into laughter. "Nothing. You're far more interesting than I thought." Tara deadpanned, "Mr. Farrell, please demonstrate your swimming skills." Soren couldn't help but chuckle at her exasperated expression. His desire to tease her only grew stronger. He found her simply too adorable. "Today must be your lucky day, as you'll get to witness world-champion-level swimming." Tara was speechless.

Soren swam for nearly twenty minutes. Tara handed him drinks during his breaks and draped a towel over his shoulders, only to take them back when he resumed swimming. She sat on the lounge chair, the only sound around her being the gentle splash of water from the pool. It was a kind of white noise that was oddly hypnotic. Resting her chin on her hand, she drifted into a light doze. Her consciousness floated through several dreams before she suddenly remembered where she was.

In a panic, she hurriedly opened her eyes. A shadow loomed over her. Soren had emerged from the pool at some point. He had put on his bathrobe, and water was still dripping from his thick hair. The usual playfulness was gone from his strikingly handsome face, replaced by a chilling intensity in his eyes. The sight sent a shiver down Tara's spine. She had almost forgotten that, in the original novel, beneath Soren's carefree, unserious exterior lay a ruthlessly cunning nature. "M-Mr.

Farrell, are you done swimming?" For some reason, Soren's gaze remained fixed on her bare feet. Noticing this, Tara instinctively pulled her feet back.