34: IF FATE PERMITS IT

IF FATE PERMITS IT

The pressure Ingrid felt caused her to stiffen, enabling her not to move. Her insides churned in perplexity by the turn of events.1

"Why is he acting like this now?" When she looked around, there were curious gazes lingering at their side.

The night is still young, and the people are just warming up a bit for the party. Clifford lingered and waited for her response. But then, a lady wearing a deep V neck floor length with floral applique cocktail gown in fiery red approached them and touched Clifford's arms. His attention shifted to the woman's slender hands then onto the soft and fair skin arms up to her face.

The lady wore a seductive smile, inviting and tempting any man to indulge in her charm.

"Clifford, darling..." she called him in a hoarse voice. Clifford just stared at the woman coldly and did not move an inch.

"I've been looking for a chance to dance with you." Everyone was ashamed of the woman's aggressiveness.

"Sorry, Georgina, but I already have a date."

Before Ingrid could protest, Clifford already caught the woman's hand, snaked on his forearm, and, without hesitation, took Ingrid's right hand and clasped his hands on her.

Slowly the people looked at their side and observed them from a distance. Everyone gasped when they heard Clifford's declaration. At the same time, Ingrid's mouth gaped at his words.

"Excuse me?" she said with gritted teeth. But Clifford just looked at her with a captivating smile, bent down a little, and whispered in her ear.

"Just play along.." his breath tickled her ears, and his voice was emitting some invitation that she should indulge.

Clifford and Ingrid went to the dance floor that caused all the people to scatter. Leaving them alone on the dancefloor. Slowly, he lifted her hand and carried it to his shoulder while his other hand went down on her lower back. Pressed his hand tightly, making contact with his body. The smell emitted from the man Ingrid does wonder to her. She loves the smell of him.

From a distance, Lance could only observe them. His face was burning with annoyance. He's been searching for her for years only to be snatched away from her, again.

"I apologize for my son's behavior, Mr. McNaught." Helen Briggs was so apologetic to their son's action.

Lance smiled.

"It's okay, Mrs. Briggs, even I would do the same if I am Ingrid's suitor."

Helen sealed her lips not to comment further, perceiving that her son never behaved in such a manner, especially towards a woman.

On the other hand, Lance controlled his emotions not to show it on his face. He composed himself and prevented himself from looking where Clifford and Ingrid danced. He is the son of Harry McNaught, after all, a close family friend of the Howards, and he has all the privilege to claim Ingrid as his.

When Lance was celebrating his birthday, he was five years old at that time, and John's daughter was only one year old, during this occasion Harry joked to John.

"What if we arrange the marriage of our children in the near future?" Harry said out of the blue. John laughed at his friend at that time. He was carrying his daughter. Then they both looked at their children, and an idea struck John's mind.

He called for his wife to take a picture of their children. Harry's son obediently sat on the chair, but the baby girl whined and did not stop unless her father took her. The boy just stared at the whining baby girl. He descended from his seat and went over to the girl, and hugged her from behind.

Suddenly, the girl gradually stopped whining, slowly the boy cradled her and placed her on the chair, and he sat beside her. Hurriedly, their mothers and a photographer took their pictures and were kept by them up until now.

"Dad, is she the one I'll be marrying someday?" the couples were astounded by the child's innocent query. The two men could not believe that all along, the child was listening to their conversation.

Harry bent down his knee and leveled his eyes on his son, "If the time is right and if fate permits it..."

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