Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 640

When Dylan came back to Palm Bay, he still smelled like the early morning- fresh, a little wild, as if he'd brought the outside in with him.

The moment he stepped into the foyer, a servant hurried over.

"Did she eat dinner last night?" Dylan asked, cutting straight to the point.

"She ate a little," the servant replied.

It was barely six in the morning. Upstairs, Clara was still in bed.

Dylan shrugged off his coat and handed it over, keeping a bunch of flowers in his arms, their petals still dotted with dew. He started up the stairs, then paused and called back, "Bring a vase to the master bedroom."

He pushed open the bedroom door, bouquet in hand. The bed covers were pulled up into a small mound Clara, curled up tight. Just seeing her like that made something in his chest go soft.

The servant arrived with the vase. Dylan arranged the flowers, set them on the nightstand, and slipped into the bathroom to wash up.

Clara had heard the quiet whir of his wheelchair long before he came in. Truth was, she hadn't slept at all. She just lay there with her eyes shut, listening, pretending.

After a few minutes, Dylan returned. He lifted the edge of the comforter, clearly intending to climb in. But the second she felt the blanket shift, Clara's eyes snapped open. She sat up fast, yanking the entire blanket with her, wrapping it protectively around herself.

Dylan paused, meeting her eyes.

She stared back, guarded, tense. Then she slid off the bed and stood by the wall, putting distance between them.

room filled with the sweet scent of flowers, but Clara just frowned, walked over, and pushed the window open for fresh

the bed, and opened his

and walked straight to the bedroom door. But when she opened it, someone was waiting outside, blocking

took a deep, frustrated breath and

you

she'd been stuck here, at least she could wander around the main house. Now, except

pretending not to hear

couldn't take it. She marched over and slammed his laptop

still red marks on her wrist from last night,

"Dylan!" she snapped.

caught her wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle.

probably to grab the ointment from last night but Clara jerked

he was

something so she

and hurled

him.

flowers and water went everywhere-petals and droplets scattering across the bed, splashing down his

to break

swallowed hard, then slowly released her. "Sorry,"

burned hotter, almost

his laptop aside and left the room without another word. Clara

returned, now in a crisp suit-ready for work. She tried to follow him out, but the same guard blocked her at the door. Watching Dylan's back as he walked