“Okay.”

Giselle tossed aside the comforter and swung her legs off the bed, only to be halted as Henry Jefferson grabbed her legs.

He wrapped one arm around her slim waist while his other hand lifted a half-eaten bowl of seafood congee, scooping up a spoonful.

“Finish this first, then you can go.”

With no other choice, Giselle reluctantly complied with his wishes.

The congee had turned cold, the geoduck inside emitting a fishy smell that made Giselle feel ...