“Maybe… he’s just had a breakup?”
“Are you serious?” Moses scoffed, waving his hand dismissively.
“He hasn’t even been in a relationship. How could he have a breakup?”
Besides, with Nate’s wealth, he could have any woman he wanted with just a snap of his fingers. The idea of him facing a breakup seemed absurd.
Zack stayed silent, the corners of his mouth lifting into a mysterious smile.
As they spoke, Nate suddenly broke the silence.
“It’s raining.”
Moses and Zack exchanged a look, sensing a strange satisfaction in Nate’s voice. Their eyes sparkled with mischief. Something wasn’t right.
“Didn’t you notice anything odd at Celtis Estate?” Zack asked, his tone casual but tinged with curiosity.
Moses thought for a moment, his brow furrowing.
“What’s odd about it? Everything was fine.”
Zack clicked his tongue, genuinely impressed by Moses’ obliviousness.
“You’re completely clueless.”
Seeing the flicker of indignation in Moses’ expression, Zack pressed on.
“Since Celtis Estate was built, when has Nate ever gone back there voluntarily?”
Moses’ eyes widened in sudden realization.
“Wait… are you saying Nate… has a secret lover tucked away?” His eyes lit up with excitement as the idea took hold.
“No way, I’ve got to check out Celtis Estate tonight.”
Zack gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder, his voice laden with a touch of warning.
“Go ahead, man. I’ll send flowers to your grave next year.”
Moses opened his mouth, but words failed him
The rain seemed to materialize from Nate’s silent wish, gradually intensifying with each passing moment. Thunderclouds gathered, promising a storm.
Nate raced through the heavy downpour, his clothes quickly becoming saturated. By the time he reached his car, water cascaded down his skin, each droplet a testament to nature’s sudden fury. Instructing the driver to activate the air conditioning, Nate settled into the vehicle, surrounded by cool air. As midnight approached, an unsettling sensation crept through his body. He retrieved a thermometer, its digital display revealing an alarming temperature of 101.3 degrees Fahrenheit.
Rising from his bed, Nate gathered the carefully prepared fever and cold medications. With deliberate movements, he tossed them into the toilet, watching them swirl away before flushing. A satisfied smile played across his lips.
The next morning dawned pale and subdued. The previous night’s deluge had transformed the landscape, leaving behind the earthy fragrance of wet grass and freshly dampened soil.
Corrine dressed carefully, preparing to start her day. As she opened her bedroom door, she encountered Tanya in the hallway.
“Good morning, Miss Holland,” Tanya greeted, her smile warm yet tinged with underlying concern. Her hands cradled a steaming tray of soup, drawing Corrine’s immediate attention. Noticing her gaze, Tanya explained, her voice revealing a hint of worry.
“Mr. Hopkins was perfectly fine yesterday, but who would have imagined he’d develop a fever overnight? I suspect the rain might be responsible. Since I couldn’t locate the fever medicine at home, I prepared this soup to help strengthen him.”
A flicker of unintended anxiety crossed Corrine’s eyes.
“Have you called a doctor?”
“The doctor has already visited,” Tanya sighed.
“But Mr. Hopkins has never been fond of taking medicine. I was left with little choice.”
“Let me handle this,” Corrine offered, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear-a subtle gesture masking her momentary awkwardness.
Tanya paused, her knowing glance speaking volumes. A brief, understanding smile danced in her eyes.
“Thank you, Miss Holland.”
Corrine accepted the tray, her fingers wrapped carefully around its edges.
She watched Tanya retreat down the hallway before turning toward Nate’s room. She knocked gently. A low, hoarse voice responded, “Come in.”
Pushing the door open, Corrine found Nate not resting as she had expected, but engrossed in a document. Gone was his typical black shirt, replaced by a deep blue pajama set that outlined his physique with tantalizing subtlety. The neckline hinted at the elegant lines of his collarbone, while rolled-up sleeves revealed the muscular strength of his forearms.
“Just leave it there and go.” Nate’s initial words carried an indifferent coldness, designed to maintain distance.
When no movement followed, he lifted his gaze. His dark eyes-intense and piercing-seemed to cut directly through Corrine, momentarily stealing her breath. The tray trembled slightly in her grasp, her feet feeling unsteady
Yet, upon recognizing her, Nate’s demeanor transformed. The icy exterior melted, replaced by a gentle, disarming smile.
“Why are you up so early?” he asked, closing the document and beckoning her closer.
Corrine approached, her movements deliberate.
“Tanya mentioned you have a fever,” she explained, placing the tray on the bedside table.
Her hand instinctively reached to check his temperature, her brow furrowing with genuine concern.
“I’m fine,” Nate murmured, intercepting her hand. His fingers traced the delicate bones of her wrist, sending a subtle warmth through her cool skin. Her concern deepened as she noted the unusual flush across his face.
“You need to take medicine,” she insisted, preparing to retrieve the medical kit.
To Corrine’s surprise, Nate suddenly slid his arm around her delicate waist, pulling her effortlessly into his warm embrace.
The cool, earthy scent of him wrapped around her, as though the very air was infused with his presence.
Startled, Corrine instinctively clung to him, their bodies pressed together in undeniable closeness. Even through the light fabric of their clothes, she could feel the searing heat radiating off him.
Every breath he took felt different, laden with an unusual warmth that seemed to seep into her skin. His warm breath fanned across her face, brushing against the strands of hair at her temples. The gentle caress made her fingertips curl, and a faint blush crept up her ears, betraying her flustered state.
Feeling a rush of unease, she pushed gently against his chest.
“I’ll go get you some medicine.”
“Don’t move.” Nate’s husky voice washed over her, a simple command that held both a coaxing sweetness and an undeniable authority.
Corrine stopped struggling, allowing herself to be held like a compliant doll, her body slowly yielding to the pull of his embrace.
Perhaps sensing her surrender, Nate’s grip on her waist softened slightly. He rested his chin on her shoulder, his voice low and intimate.
“My Corrine is so obedient.”
As he spoke, he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, the action tender and possessive, like a puppy seeking affection. His hair tickled her, and she couldn’t suppress the instinct to shrink back, pushing against his shoulder.
“It tickles.”
For a moment, she nearly fell out of his arms, the shock making her face pale. Instinctively, she reached out, hooking her arms around his neck, barely managing to keep her balance.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.