Chapter 30
B
e
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The downpour intensified over the next twenty minutes. Yolanda 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 create complications 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 uncomfortable questions.
Megan sounded puzzled. “Didn’t lan tell you it was so far? I warned him.”
“He must’ve forgotten. He’s at the read–through now.” Yolanda watched rain streak the glass. “It’s a four–hour drive in this kind of rain. By the time I get back, it’ll be so late. Charles will definitely notice.”
“Charles?” Megan snorted. “That man’s probably balls–deep in his mistress right now.”
Yolanda 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 lan. 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?”
Rough was an understatement, but Yolanda 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’s coming 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 block Ian. 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,” she commanded.
Ian took one look at her smug expression and shouldered past without breaking stride.
“Keep walking and my boyfriend blacklists you,” she shrieked after him.
He didn’t turn. Since she had just been with Wayne, acting sneaky, Ian assumed they must be playing some games.
When Ian reached his room, a loud crash came from inside. He shoved the door open to find Yolanda gripping a stool, while Wayne groaned on the floor, clutching his head.
Seeing Ian, Yolanda dropped the stool and sagged against the wall, breathing hard.
Without hesitation, lan hauled Wayne up and threw him out, then slammed and locked the door behind him.
Sweat beaded on Yolanda’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.
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, rain lashed against the windows. Inside, the air was thick with tension. Then her phone buzzed and the screen lit up with Charles’s name.
Gently, lan pulled his hand back and resumed wiping her face, silent.
1/2
2:15 AM P P •
Chapter 30
55 vouchers
But Yolanda 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, clarity 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 lan leaned over to set the bottle down, she seized his collar. 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.”
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 collar.
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!
