Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 544

Clara hadn't even made it to the front door when, out of nowhere, several people appeared and blocked her way with careful, almost deferential precision.

"Ma'am, please, you need to go back inside."

The suddenness of it made her stumble back a few steps, her heart thudding in her chest. She'd checked-she was sure she'd checked. There hadn't been a soul nearby. Where had these people even come from?

A cold shiver ran down her back.

If she couldn't see anyone hiding, did that mean she'd been watched the entire time? Had someone been tailing her from the moment she left the main house?

Humiliation burned through her for thinking she could sneak around, for believing she was clever enough to get away with it. And then came the anger- sharp and hot-for Dylan, for the way he always seemed to pull the strings, for how he never lost control.

She pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to lash out. "... Did you see me out there the whole time?"

The man didn't answer. He just bowed with that same polite detachment. "Please, ma'am, head back inside."

Her anger boiled over. She turned and stalked back toward the house, not bothering to hide her frustration.

She went straight upstairs, barely pausing at Dylan's bedroom door before kicking

it open.

She expected resistance, but the door wasn't even locked-it flew open with a loud thud.

lights still on. Was Dylan not even

stopped short when she saw he was turned away, his back to her, apparently

what to do next. She called his

"Dylan!"

pulling the blanket up, his tone flat. "What is

for you? Watching me wander around out

back to her, she couldn't see his expression, couldn't tell what he

his eyes again, lashes

clenched, struggling to find words. After

"What do you actually want

have a clue what he

messy, eyes on her. The room suddenly felt smaller, every inch filled

quietly,

aback, then slowly stepped

warning, he grabbed her wrist, pulled her in, and

her-soft,

asked what I wanted,

wide. She froze,

gaze in a way that

like a shock. Her chest tightened; she lifted her hand, ready to slap him. But when she saw his face-pale, tired-her hand stalled

for what felt like forever

If it had been Ryan,