Chapter 127 You Disgust Me

Tristan's lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "You're exactly my type," he admitted. The frankness of his words left every rebuttal Cressida had prepared stuck in her throat. She had expected denial, a joke to brush it off, but not this blunt confession. That wasn't what she wanted to hear. It felt far more dangerous than any ambiguous answer ever could. Cressida pulled herself together and said, "Mr. Leigh, don't waste your time on me. I'm not right for you, and I can't give you anything you're looking for." She spoke with finality, trying to snuff out the uneasy tension Tristan had stirred. He glanced at her as he eased the Bentley into reverse. "I like to challenge the impossible." Then he focused on the road, turned the wheel, and the black car instantly disappeared into the night. Cressida stood there as the evening wind brushed past her, sending a chill across her skin. Her head throbbed from the stress she'd been carrying all afternoon. Luther had alre