Yates Donovan froze in place. A window to the side was open—he’d cracked it before leaving to help alleviate her feverish heat.

He was standing right in the draft, and the evening breeze chilled his exposed skin.

But for some reason, his blood began to race, his body temperature spiking until it was frighteningly hot.

It was as if he was the one who had been drugged.

His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. Acting as if nothing was wrong, he crumpled the piece of fabric into a ball and carelessly stuffed it into his suit pocket.

’My thoughts are a mess.’ But he had no time to sort them out. The call had ended at some point—he hadn’t even noticed. He’d tossed his phone onto the sofa.

Directly across from him was the dimly lit bathroom.

She must have been in a panic, flipping on a single, random light.

Through the frosted glass, he felt as if he could still see her silhouette.

Yates Donovan felt rooted to the spot, unable to take a single step.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

After a long, internal struggle, he raised a hand...

He bent his knuckles and knocked softly on the door.

The voice that came out was raw and hoarse, hardly recognizable as his own. "Don’t take a cold shower. Turn—turn on the heater. Don’t use cold water. Just stay in the tub for now. You’ll be fine once the doctor gets here."

"Just hold on a little longer."

She must have heard him. She seemed to want to answer, but the moment she opened her mouth, another soft moan escaped her lips.

Yates Donovan’s hand on the glass door clenched into a fist, and his chest rose and fell in a single, heavy breath.

’I can’t go in.’

’She’s not wearing anything. Not a single thing.’

’This is when she’s most vulnerable. And the only piece of clothing she had is in my hands.’

’I can’t stay here any longer.’ Suppressed sounds kept coming from inside, and he couldn’t tell if they were born of pain or something else entirely.

’If I keep listening, I’m going to lose it right here.’

"Just stay in the water. I’ll..."

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud SPLASH came from inside, followed by a series of violent coughs.

Splashing sounds followed, along with a startled cry.

In an instant, his hand on the glass door pushed hard.

The door flew open. Through the hazy light, Yates Donovan’s eyes immediately fell on Mia Grant, who was thrashing in the bathtub.

His breath hitched. He lunged forward, grabbed her by the waist, and began to lift her from the water.

The moment he touched her, he realized she was soaking in ice-cold water.

Her skin was chillingly cold to the touch.

The faucet was still running. Water had overflowed from the circular tub—a tub large enough for three or four people—and was now splashing relentlessly against his suit jacket.

His expensive suit was quickly soaked, clinging tightly to his skin.

But Yates Donovan couldn’t be bothered with any of that. His mind was in turmoil.

He was at a complete loss, unsure how to even begin pulling her from the tub.

Her health was already fragile—she was the type to be out of breath after a few steps and coughing after a few more. She couldn’t stay in that cold water any longer.

Mia Grant’s mind was gone. She clung to Yates Donovan like he was a lifeline, her arms locking tightly around his neck.

She pressed against his chest, her scalding breath chipping away at his sanity. It was like a feather, teasing its way across his exposed collarbone, his jaw, and finally, his lips.

Their lips touched. She was kissing him.

Yates Donovan instinctively tried to push her away.

Sensing his resistance, she whimpered. In a voice both resentful and pitifully soft, she asked, "Ah... You’re rejecting me again? Why are you always like this... Please don’t leave me all alone..."

The words struck him like a hammer blow to the head.

Yates Donovan’s eye twitched violently.

"Don’t do this. You’ll regret it when you wake up. I’m going to drain the tub. Don’t move."

The man who was usually so flirtatious and carefree was now the one holding back.

Yates Donovan’s limbs felt numb. Only after several deep breaths could he steady his hand enough to turn off the faucet.

He drained the tub. Once the water level receded, he started running warm water, letting her slowly acclimate to the temperature before adding hot water.

He tried to pry her hands off him, but her grip was too tight. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

She clung to him, sobbing.

"I’m not leaving. I’ll go get a bathrobe for you."

"I don’t mind you not wearing anything. I can be shameless enough to accept it. I’m just worried you’ll wake up tomorrow and be too embarrassed to look at me."

"Be good. Let go. If you keep moving, I’ll see everything."

"And if I see everything, you’ll have to marry me, won’t you? No running away then. If you try, I’ll just drag you back, chain you to the bed, and you won’t be able to do anything all day but obediently take..."

He let the word escape in a soft breath. As he said it, the delicate body in his arms trembled.

He thought his words had frightened her, so he grabbed her hands to pull them away.

He never expected that in the next second, as if she’d been given an order, she would lunge at him.

Teeth scraped against his lip, drawing blood. The sting made him gasp, giving her the perfect opening to deepen the kiss.

Her kiss was just like her personality: relentlessly demanding and utterly unreasonable.

It took a long moment for Yates Donovan to process that he was being kissed so forcefully.

The water was gradually getting warmer, and so was the air.

Steam billowed and swirled, fogging the glass door until it was a complete blur.

The ends of her hair soaked in the tub. His classic, black-striped tie was knotted into a bow around her long hair. One end of the tie floated loosely on the surface, while the other clung tightly to the curve of her waist.

The stark white of her skin was stained by the inky black of the tie, the two colors weaving together in the water in a deeply intimate dance.

Yates Donovan didn’t know when he’d gotten into the tub himself.

All he could vaguely recall was the sound of her ragged breaths in his ear.

As her pleas of "I’m so uncomfortable," "Help me," and "I’m begging you" echoed one after another, his own body was gradually submerged.

The spacious tub felt like a bottomless pit. He struggled uselessly in the vortex, only to be sucked down and devoured.

He leaned back against one side of the tub, letting her cling to him like a koala, grabbing, tearing, and climbing his clothes.

Then she held him fast, kissing his lips, his eyes, his brow.

She seemed desperate. Between kisses, her restless fingers roamed over his body, searching for something.

In the midst of the chaos, Yates Donovan turned his head, dodging her lips.

For a moment, she looked lost.

She immediately ducked her head to try again, but he caught her chin, stopping her.

Cupping her face in his hand, Yates Donovan met her gaze. In the cloudy depths of her eyes, he saw his own reflection—just as much of a wreck as she was.

The only difference was that his eyes still held a sliver of clarity.

Hers, on the other hand, were hazy and filled with a sense of grievance. She gazed at him pitifully, as if silently accusing him of some wrongdoing.

’In truth, tonight... everything could have just happened.’

’It’s just... it’s just...’

His Adam’s apple, already red with kiss marks, bobbed. Listening to her whimpers, like those of a small, pleading animal, Yates Donovan asked, "Do you know who I am?"

It was impossible to tell if she understood, but she nodded haphazardly.

She nodded forcefully, as if trying to prove she wasn’t lying.

A corner of Yates Donovan’s mouth lifted into a smile. He had no idea how he could still manage one at a time like this.

He asked again, "Do you know what we’re doing?"

Again, she nodded without hesitation.

"Nodding doesn’t count. Say it."

His thumb slid over her lips in a lingering caress. He gently pried them apart, opening her clenched jaw as he tempted her, "Darling, say it."

"Say it, and I’ll give you whatever you want."