Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 598

Clara kept turning it over in her mind. This can't be, she thought. It just can't.

Did Z already know she was married?

The second the idea hit her, she went cold all over. She struggled to open her eyes, but something heavy pressed her down, like she was still trapped inside that burning furnace.

"Don't be mad, okay? The bracelet's still here," she mumbled, trying to coax him— and herself back to calm. Sleepiness tugged at her, making her words soft and slow.

But when everything was over, Clara felt... off. Unsatisfied.

It was like he hadn't really tried tonight.

She was kind of annoyed about it, honestly. Everything had ended so quickly, she barely even had time to react.

A warm towel slid over her skin. Maybe sensing her mood, the man's voice was calm, almost gentle.

"Your health isn't great."

Oh.

So he was still worried about her, after all.

Clara let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and shot back, "As long as it's not because you can't, that's fine."

The towel paused in his hand. He laughed, low and quiet.

Clara didn't hear him. In her own little fantasy, she imagined she'd managed to make it up to Z. She pictured him soothed, forgiving her, and she drifted off into the best sleep she'd had in ages, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Once her mind started spinning again, all she could do was stress about how on earth she could ask Dylan

made her head pound. She felt like

as the sun was setting,

in forever. She stretched out,

could finish, a hand gently pressed her

edge of the bed, looking immaculate. His suit was perfectly tailored and every single button on his

remembered

this wasn't her

actually sharing a blanket with him. She had no

breath,

your bed the

so honest, it probably never even crossed her mind that the two of them had been sharing this bed for

for a moment before he looked away, his lashes casting a shadow

Why did he always look

threw off the covers and got out of bed. She felt

someone change the sheets. Sorry-I must've wandered in here that night, still groggy from

ways, she was as clueless as a

just sat there, quietly watching

own room, collapsed onto her bed,

eat? You've been sleeping for days, and now that your fever's broken, we thought we'd make you some soup

but her stomach rumbled. "That sounds great,

was the first time Mrs. Ferguson had ever actually asked for soup herself. She hurried off to the kitchen, calling for a big pot of soup

dreams. shed been sweating a lot, but now she just felt fresh and comfortable. Too lazy to care, she snuggled into her pillow

The sheets in the master had already been changed the night before, when

fingers over the pillow, noticing a few