Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 47

Clara had barely settled in for a half-hour rest when a knock interrupted her quiet time.

She opened the door and found Aiden standing there. His tone was as formal as ever. "Ms. Clara, Mr. Dylan has invited you for dinner."

Clara, having only snacked on apples earlier, was more than ready for a proper

meal.

As she stepped into Dylan's room, the lights were glowing brightly, showcasing a lavish dinner spread. Dylan sat at the table, engrossed in a book. He heard her enter, looked up slowly, and said, "Please, take a seat."

Clara felt her stomach rumble and sat down without fuss. "Thank you, Mr. Dylan."

The table was filled with at least fifteen different dishes-a showcase of culinary delights from land, sea, and air. Clara was taken aback by the luxurious spread, impressed by the effort Dylan had gone to.

She picked up her cutlery and started eating at a leisurely pace. Dylan put his book aside and began slicing into the steak on his plate.

Clara was nearly full when she noticed Dylan had hardly touched his food. She was surprised, expecting a man of his stature to have a bigger appetite.

Just then, a knock echoed through the room, but it wasn't Dylan's door-it was hers.

voice called, probably about the big order they

Her hand instinctively grabbed the tablecloth, pulling it just enough to send a bowl of butternut squash soup flying

soup had spilled onto a rather embarrassing spot, and it took her a

He reached out, gently taking her wrist. His eyes were filled with an

stood up straight. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Dylan.

continued to

for a few moments longer,

to North Ashford tonight. It's a bit of a drive from South Ashford, and I

favor of South Ashford's more famous apples. If Clara's

go and said, "The farmers in North Ashford can be tough to deal with. They've got a lot of grudges from being overlooked." Clara was surprised he knew so much. Had he thought about North Ashford, too? "I know. I'll make sure they see I mean business. North Ashford's apples are just as good,

then Dylan's phone rang,

Talk about bad timing.

frowned. What did

voice blared through. "Uncle Dylan, where's Clara staying? I just got to South Ashford and need to talk to

Clara, who looked less than pleased. It either meant delivering a luxury purse to his aunt or apologizing to Quinn. Nothing good ever came

neutral, "Why do you

her livestream that upset some viewers, and now they're going after Quinn. Quinn's been crying, and