Chapter 185

Evelyn didn't hear any movement from the front. Despite her terrible cramps and foul mood, she lifted her head.

That's when she saw him walking toward her.

Dominic Blackwood stood tall with those impossibly long legs. His expression was unreadable as always. In that tailored suit, he looked like a god descended from Olympus.

The man carried himself with the same commanding presence whether at a Wall Street summit, corporate boardroom, or this rural retreat. Nothing ever cracked that icy composure.

His eyes remained as cold and unfeeling as ever. Even dressed for the countryside, he wore his signature designer suit with that same infuriating perfection.

Evelyn never expected Dominic to approach her.

Why was he here?

Backlit by the setting sun, she squinted at his approaching figure. She glanced behind her - no one there.

He was coming for her.

It wasn't that Evelyn refused to speak to him. She simply didn't want this conversation happening in front of their colleagues.

"Are you unwell?" Dominic knelt without hesitation, that usual arrogance gone. His gaze swept over her pale face and ankle with genuine concern.

Their eyes met. Evelyn noticed his brows furrowed in the same moment hers did.

He was worried.

Perhaps that's all this was - professional concern. She shook her head, avoiding his piercing stare. "I'm fine. You should go back to your meeting."

She hated being the center of attention.

Dominic stood, making everyone else fade into the background. "Abigail. Come here."

Abigail Thornton hurried over.

"What's wrong with Evelyn?" Though his tone remained businesslike, concern flickered in his eyes.

"She..." Normally unflappable, Abigail stammered under his intense gaze. "Ev... Evelyn has severe cramps. The pool water was too cold for her condition."

At the word "cramps," Dominic turned and knelt again. His hand hovered near her shoulder. "Can you stand?"

Evelyn eyed his outstretched hand. She attempted to rise, but a sharp pain shot through her calf.

Her face contorted.

Without warning, Dominic scooped her into his arms bridal-style.

"Put me down. Now." Her protest came out barely above a whisper, but he heard.

"Keep struggling and I'll kiss you right here in front of everyone."

He carried her toward the black Range Rover parked nearby. When she squirmed, he looked down with that infuriating mix of amusement and pity.

Jaws dropped across the lawn.

Meanwhile, Yvette Prescott watched her supposed lover carry Evelyn away. Furious, she hurled her shawl to the ground.

Silence fell.

No one dared question why the CEO was carrying Evelyn Sinclair.

Not even his rumored girlfriend Yvette had ever touched his sleeve.

Dominic hadn't so much as glanced at Yvette. She might as well have been air - just another nameless employee.

Unworthy of his attention.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, packing began. "What's Evelyn's relationship with Mr. Blackwood?" someone whispered.

"Maybe she twisted her ankle? He was just being decent," another offered while folding chairs.

"Decent? Have you met our CEO? The man's an iceberg. The coldest man alive!"

Veteran employees shook their heads. "If Evelyn had fallen, the 'decent' thing would've been calling an ambulance. That man wouldn't lift a finger for anyone - not even himself."

Yvette overheard this as she marched to her car.

The gossiping women didn't recognize her. "He carried her to his car personally. They're definitely involved. Don't you know? The CEO personally approves every design hire. He must've noticed her during interviews."

"I heard no woman's ever sat in his passenger seat before. Sebastian Whitmore once said at a gala, 'Unless she's his wife or daughter, why would she?'" The woman eyed Sebastian. "I'm going to ask why Evelyn gets that privilege now."

Sebastian collected Evelyn's belongings, placing them silently in the Range Rover before retreating to his own car. He sent a quick text.

Nearby, Abigail checked her phone.

Olivia Kensington looked confused when Abigail called, "We're riding back with Mr. Whitmore."

Yvette's former sycophants stared slack-jawed at the black Range Rover. What was happening inside?

Employees from other departments, unaware of protocol, pulled out binoculars like paparazzi stalking celebrities.

Through tinted windows, they glimpsed Dominic using a company towel to dry Evelyn's hair - the gesture almost paternal in its tenderness.

Then he removed his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders despite her vigorous head-shaking.

Most shocking of all - the CEO massaging Evelyn's calf with those long, elegant fingers.

Every moment shattered their image of the cold, unapproachable Dominic Blackwood.