Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 639

Clara stayed in bed until seven, barely noticing when someone knocked softly on her door. One of the housekeepers called out, "Would you like something to eat, Ms. Clara?"

She just felt irritated, rolling over and pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

This time, the housekeeper sounded more anxious. “Ma'am, please, you should have a little something. Sir asked us to take care of you before he left. We made some soup-you don't look well, and a bowl of soup might help."

With a sigh, Clara finally dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom. She stared at her reflection; she looked awful-her skin was pale, dark circles shadowed her eyes. No wonder Dylan had told her to rest.

She splashed her face with cold water, but it did nothing to ease the restless frustration buzzing inside her.

Steeling herself, she opened her bedroom door.

The housekeeper's eyes immediately brightened with relief.

Clara realized she couldn't keep running herself into the ground. She needed to

take care of herself first-everything else could wait.

She went downstairs and managed a few bites. Heading back upstairs, she

paused outside the guest room, but a man in a black suit stepped out and silently blocked her way, gesturing that she was expected to sleep in the master

bedroom.

Clara's face darkened. Without a word, she turned and went into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her with a loud slam.

All she could hear

you—if you ever leave

chest ached, the pain so sharp she could hardly breathe. She curled into herself, hoping the feeling would pass, but the heaviness just lingered,

for a glass of cold water and opened the window, staring out

after her last failed attempt. Now, all she

*

Mrs. Ferguson was up at dawn. Guided by

to the minute-each step

there was still no sign of Dylan. She leaned over to the person beside her and whispered, "Did Dylan

"Sir left the temple early this

bed early last night, and she'd hoped he might

Leaving like that-so rude.

breath, unwilling to let her irritation spoil the sacred moment. She took

of peach trees, Mrs. Ferguson noticed the top branches of several trees had

frowned, a bit disappointed. "Who did

the monks explained, "People pick the

ahead where picking isn't allowed-the

"Is it for good fortune? Like, happily ever after or

monk grinned and

"Mrs. Ferguson, you go ahead. I'll catch up

Tara wanted those flowers for. She sighed but smiled despite

already lost among the

Mrs. Ferguson finished her prayers, Tara came running in, arms full of peach