"Ah, right! I need to go shower!"
It suddenly hit Claire Sinclair that this was no time to chat. She had to shower right now and scrub every place that damned scumbag had touched at least ten times!
Adrian Quincy set her on the floor. The moment he let go, she crumpled to the ground.
Her legs were so weak she couldn't muster any strength.
Claire Sinclair sat on the floor in frustration, slapping her thighs hard like a helpless child. "Why can't I move again..."
'That incident was so long ago. I thought I was completely recovered, but I never expected my legs to fail me again the next time I was in danger.'
Adrian Quincy knelt beside her on one knee and scooped her up. His tone was surprisingly gentle. "What's wrong with your legs?"
"It's nothing. I was injured a while back, and it left some aftereffects. Whenever I get really nervous, my legs give out. I just need to rest for a bit and it'll be fine."
"I'll carry you to the bathroom."
