Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 29

Clara found herself back at the hotel tonight, once again lounging in Dylan's suite. She'd taken his room card with her when she left home that morning. After a grueling day tangled up in real estate dealings, she swiped the card and entered, too worn out to question anything.

She sank into the sofa, stifling a yawn. In her sleepy haze, she heard the sound of running water from the master bathroom. Looking up, she spotted Dylan.

There he was, drying his hair with only a towel wrapped low around his waist. He wasn't in his wheelchair now. His feet were planted firmly on the ground, though his steps were painstakingly slow.

Clara snapped out of her daze and jumped up from the sofa. Dylan stood still, casually running the towel over his hair, glancing at the door, probably wondering how she'd gotten in.

It was the first time she'd seen him with his chest bare. Water droplets trailed down from his neck, tracing the firm lines of his torso before disappearing beneath the towel. She quickly looked away. "Oh, Mr. Dylan, fancy seeing you here."

"This is my room."

think clearly, and let herself in without a second thought. Dylan moved slowly, needing to brace himself against the wall or furniture. Yet, his back was straight, like a resilient oak

the arm. "Sorry, I'm just wiped out tonight. I'll

against Dylan's skin, cool from the recent shower. He pulled his arm away,

really tired, your mind aches, and it feels

help, she decided not to push it, turning to leave. But she paused

help with your hair? Let me get that for

swung and accidentally hit

in rehab and barely managing to stand, was

towel the only thing he had on. As the towel was about to

she couldn't help but acknowledge it inwardly.

turned his gaze aside, and rigidly braced his arm against the bed.

eyes, careful not