Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

The moment Dylan got back to Palm Bay, he called a doctor to check on her.

Clara had barely hit the sheets before she started complaining about the heat,

over and over.

The doctor's verdict matched what that stranger had warned them—it was just a

nasty side effect from the illegal drugs. Nothing to be done.

Dylan's face darkened for a second. He had someone fill a tub with cold water

and gently lowered her in.

But Clara barely noticed the chill. Sweat kept trickling down her forehead, her

whole body burning like she was on fire.

“Babe, I’m still so hot,” she mumbled.

Dylan wasn’t in his wheelchair this time. He crouched beside the tub, forcing

himself to look away from the lost, hazy look in her eyes.

He couldn’t forget what she’d said before—how she felt dirty.

He barely dared to touch her. His fingers tightened on the edge of the tub, lashes

lowered. “Just soak a bit longer. You’ll cool down soon.”

Clara’s cheeks were red, and she sneezed. “I’m hot and cold at the same time.

Can’t I just hold you?”

She tried to wrap her arms around his neck, but he dodged her gentle hug.

Her face fell. She sank a little deeper into the water, hugging herself.

Dylan stood up, grabbed a bathrobe, and headed to the guest room to take a cold

shower.

When he came back, Clara was still soaking in the cold water.

His heart ached for her—he hated seeing her like this—but there was nothing else

he could do.

He paused by the bathroom door just as she got out of the tub, one hand against

the wall, her cheeks still flushed.

He moved to help her, but before he could, she hurried over, cupped his face, and

kissed him.

She wasn’t wearing anything, and for a second, he had no idea where to put his

hands.

Clara seemed clear-headed, her voice puzzled. “Why can’t I kiss you?”

She gave him a little shove, pushing him onto the bed. His bathrobe slipped open.

She leaned over him, smiling suddenly. “You’re actually pretty good-looking, you

know?”

He froze, took a few seconds to react, then pressed his lips together.

“Yeah.”

Aiden was about to open the door—he needed to bring in Clara’s next dose of

medicine, just like the boss told him.

But as soon as he cracked the door, he heard muffled noises coming from inside.

He froze, then quickly closed the door.

It wasn’t until noon the next day that Dylan finally woke up. Clara was still asleep,

curled up in his arms, only half her face peeking out.

His heart softened. He was about to close his eyes again when he heard

someone outside say, “Sir, Mrs. Ferguson is here.”

Dylan frowned, grabbed some clothes, and got up, carefully tucking the blanket

around Clara before leaving.

Mrs. Ferguson had been on bad terms with him lately, not even allowed to visit

Palm Bay. She’d only been let back in after handing over the deleted security

footage.

Now, seeing Dylan looking a bit better, she finally relaxed.

But when she noticed the marks on his collarbone beneath his white shirt, she

slammed her hand on the table.

“Unbelievable! Absolutely ridiculous! Your body’s already in this state, and you’re

still chasing after women? You’re going to be the death of me!”

She’d rushed over the moment she

heard Clara had been found. Dylan’s

condition these past few days had

her so worried she couldn’t eat or

sleep, terrified she’d wake up and

find she was too late.noveldrama

Dylan was her handpicked successor—no matter how tough she acted, there was

no way she could just stand by and let him die.

When he came downstairs, he wore

a crisp white shirt and black pants.

His shirt was unbuttoned at the

collar. He sat straight in his

wheelchair, radiating a youthful

energy—if it weren’t for the aura he

carried, he could’ve passed for a

college student.

He didn’t respond to her outburst, just asked, “Mother, is there something you

need?”

Mrs. Ferguson took a deep breath,

trying to calm herself. “Now that

Clara’s back, please stop with all

that reckless talk. You need to pay

attention to your health. As for the

Warren family, I’ll lower myself and

talk to them. Dylan, you have to think

about the bigger picture. Don’t act

on impulse again.”

Dylan just replied with a quiet “Okay,” his calm attitude only making her more

frustrated.