Just when she thought things couldn't get any more awkward, they did. The intimate position sent a scalding heat rushing to Su Ci’s face, and her heart began to hammer uncontrollably against her ribs. Fu Nancheng’s handsome face darkened. He clenched his jaw, the words rumbling from deep in his throat with a menacing chill. "Su Ci, did you do this on purpose?" "I... I didn't! My hair is caught on your button. I'll get it off right now..." Su Ci raised her hands to untangle her hair. Fu Nancheng felt her hands brush against his torso—so small, so pale, so soft—fumbling blindly over his abdomen. Even through the fabric, a jolt of electricity shot through him wherever her fingers grazed, and the hard muscles of his abdomen clenched instinctively. "Su Ci, where do you think you're putting your hands?" Su Ci couldn’t see where her hair was caught. Flustered by their intimate posture, her hands lost all sense of propriety. Only when she heard the seething anger in his voice did she realize where her hands had strayed. The contact with his firm muscles—the hard, chiseled wall of his abs—startled her. She snatched her hands back as if burned, her mind flashing back to that night in the presidential suite, to everything she’d shamelessly done to him. It was utterly mortifying. "I’ve stopped, alright? Can you just help me get my hair untangled?" Fu Nancheng had no desire to clean up a mess of her making, but he knew if they stayed tangled up like this any longer, things could ignite. He reached out, roughly yanking her hair free from his button. Then he threw back the covers and got out of bed. "Get the hell out of my bed!" he roared. Su Ci scrambled off the bed and stood before him. A dangerous storm brewed in his deep-set eyes, crimson flames dancing in their depths as he stared her down. His oppressive presence was so powerful it felt hard to breathe. Knowing she was in the wrong, Su Ci rushed to explain. "I didn't know this was your room. You told me to stay away from your nephew, didn't you? I was hiding from him, so I ducked into this room and... I accidentally ended up in your bed..." "I told you to stay away from my nephew," he cut her off sharply. "I didn't tell you to come seduce me." Seduce him? "I did not," Su Ci denied instantly. Fu Nancheng’s hand shot out, clamping down on her delicate shoulder and shoving her hard against the wall. Su Ci’s slender back slammed into the plaster, and she winced as a sharp pain radiated from the impact, her brow furrowing. *Thwack.* His other hand slammed against the wall beside her head. He loomed over her, his tall, handsome frame trapping her delicate body. "Still won't admit you're trying to seduce me? Then tell me this: were you about to get a room with that Sun Quan earlier?" Su Ci froze. So he *had* seen her with Sun Quan. "That was because—" Fu Nancheng had no interest in her excuses. "Leading my nephew on, getting a room with Sun Quan, and now climbing into my bed. Su Ci, you seem to enjoy seducing men so much. Have you no sense of shame?" His voice was ice-cold, dripping with sarcasm. So that’s how he saw her. In his eyes, she was nothing but a shameless woman who threw herself at men. Su Ci looked up at him, a slow smile spreading across her lips. "If I am seducing you, why are you so angry? Unless... it's working?" Fu Nancheng faltered. "What are you talking about?" Su Ci arched a delicate eyebrow, a flirtatious light entering her clear, bright eyes. "Am I wrong? You look exactly like a man who’s been seduced. The only problem is, you can’t stand being tempted by a woman like me, so you’re lashing out." The light in Fu Nancheng’s eyes died, replaced by a dangerous darkness. His hand shot up, his fingers closing around her slender throat. "Su Ci," he snarled, "you're asking for death."