Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 312

The nurse quickly hooked Sylvia up to a fresh IV, working with swift efficiency.

Once everything was in place, Rupert glanced over at Chris.

"You can wait outside."

Chris clutched his stomach with one hand and rubbed his arm where Rupert had yanked him earlier. "Does this count as a workplace injury or what?"

The hospital room door closed quietly behind him, leaving Sylvia and Rupert alone.

Sylvia came back to her senses, instantly trying to wriggle out of Rupert's arms. But he held her tight from behind, his broad chest warm and unyielding, a strong and possessive presence wrapping around her.

His voice was low and cold. "You knew she'd come after you, didn't you?"

"I didn't know. Didn't you say I'm not clever enough, Uncle Rupert? How could I possibly read people's minds?" Sylvia murmured, half-defiant.

"Still arguing?"

Rupert sat behind her, his face unreadable, his tone giving nothing away.

He pulled the blanket over the two of them, tucking her in almost brusquely.

His body heat filled the chilly space beneath the covers, turning it instantly cozy.

Sylvia felt awkward, pinned in place, unable to move even if she wanted to.

The room fell quiet except for the faint rustle of the blanket, an intimate sort of silence lingering in the air.

the blanket

Rupert's voice turned icy, shutting her

body go cold all over

the state she was in-he knew everything-and he was still covering for

her throat raw, her

from him, wrapping

the police. Unless you kill me, you can't stop me," she spat

barely stable in his new role, and people were already circling

doomed to lose, she'd at least stir the

"Kill you?"

cold breath brushed her ear, a dangerous edge in

she could react, his hand slipped under

her shirt, and

her bare skin-his touch rough, his palm still

at her waist, fingers

She grabbed his arm to stop

breath hot on her neck, sending

softly. "Not afraid to die, but

him, flustered. "You're

sharply, bumping her nose against

seemed surprised, too, his usually cool

her gaze, his dark eyes growing

his fingers along her cheek, his touch warm and

winced; the hand with the IV stung a

glanced at her, his eyes calm,

but Sylvia found herself too