The downpour intensified over the next twenty minutes. Ynda shrugged out of her coat, revealing a fitted white blouse that clung to her frame. The room felt stifling suddenly, or maybe it was just her rising anxiety.
An overnight stay would createplications she couldn’t afford. Not in two years had she slept anywhere but home. She reached for her phone, dialing Megan to coordinate their alibis before Charles could start asking ufortable questions.
Megan sounded puzzled. “Didn’t Ian tell you it was so far? I warned him.”
“He must’ve forgotten. He’s at the read–through now.” Ynda watched rain streak the ss. “It’s a four–hour drive in this kind of rain. By the time I get back, it’ll be sote. Charles will definitely notice.”
“Charles?” Megan snorted. “That man’s probably balls–deep in his mistress right now.”
Ynda forced a smile. The heat crawling up her neck wasn’t just from the stuffy room. She guessed maybe she’d run a fever.
She ended the call just as the door clicked open. However, it wasn’t Ian. Wayne slinked inside, predatory glee lighting his face. “Looks like the medicine’s kicking in, sweetheart. Here I am.”
Her stomach twisted. Before she could react, he was already moving toward her. “What the hell are you doing?” she snapped, her voice sharp despite the fog in her head.
Wayne’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. Up close, she was even more breathtaking than he’d imagined. ‘No wonder Ian keeps her around,‘ he thought, ‘He has a good taste.‘
“Helping you, obviously,” he said, feigning innocence. “You must be feeling pretty rough right now, huh?<b>” </b>
Rough was an understatement, but Ynda grabbed the nearest thing–a heavy vase–and swung. “Get out!” she shouted.
But he caught her wrist easily. The drugs had sapped her strength, and he was far stronger.
“Face it, no one’sing to save you,” he taunted. “Ian’s too busy with Sophie to care. But don’t worry. After tonight, you’ll be mine. And trust me, I’ll treat you right.”
At the entrance to the hall, Sophie did blockn. In her eyes, she was already a rising star – far above some nobody like him. The fact that she was even bothering to speak to him was a privilege he should be grateful for.
Her chin lifted in that imperious way she’d perfected. “We need to talk,” shemanded.
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Ian took one look at her smug expression and shouldered past without breaking stride.
“Keep walking and my boyfriend cklists you,” she shrieked after him.
He didn’t turn. Since she had just been with Wayne, acting sneaky, Ian assumed they must be ying some games.
*****
When Ian reached his room, a loud crash came from inside. He shoved the door open to find Ynda gripping a stool, while Wayne groaned on the floor, clutching his head.
Seeing Ian, Ynda dropped the stool and sagged against the wall, breathing hard.
Without hesitation, Ian hauled Wayne up and threw him out, then mmed and locked the door behind him.
Sweat beaded on Ynda’s forehead. She’d been holding herself together, but now she slumped into the corner, her voice weak. “Ian…”
He crossed the room in a few strides, lifting her onto the bed. Her flushed cheeks told him she’d been drugged.
Her head spun, vision blurring. Every inch of her ached. <fne790> Updates are released by Find?Novel</fne790>
Ian soaked a towel in cold water and pressed it to her face. The coolness soothed her, and she clung to his wrist, fingers tightening around his. He stilled, meeting her clouded gaze.
Outside, rainshed against the windows. Inside, the air was thick with tension. Then her phone buzzed and the screen lit up with Charles’s name.
Gently, Ian pulled his hand back and resumed wiping her face, silent.
But Ynda sat up suddenly, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m burning up,” she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.
He stiffened, and then turned his face away, hesitating before dabbing her cheek again with the damp towel.
For a brief moment, rity flickered in her eyes. She fumbled for the nightstand. “Water… I need-” She took a sip but remained dazed, sweat still glistening on her skin.
As Ian leaned over to set the bottle down, she seized his cor. Her lips crashed into his- sweet, desperate, and wild as the storm outside. “I’m burning. Help me,” she pleaded.
Ian froze before slowly pushing her back. “There’s a bathtub. I’ll get a cold bath for you.”
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He turned toward the bathroom, but a burning touch stopped him. Her hand clutched his wrist, fever–hot. The contact sent electricity up his arm. Before he could react, she yanked him back by his cor.
Her palms framed his face as she kissed him hungrily. He didn’t reciprocate, sensing her frantic need.
Finally, he turned toward the rain–streaked window, voice rough. “Don’t do this.”
“Stop hiding,” she whispered against his lips.
“You’re not thinking straight,” he said. “I can’t—”
Her grip on his fingers tightened. He exhaled sharply. “Let me help another way, okay?”
Her cheeks burned crimson as she buried her face in his neck, inhaling his crisp, earthy scent.
His hand hovered at her waist, waiting. Thunder rumbled outside. He looked down, conflict darkening his eyes.