Chapter 99

"Excuse me, I...had no idea you were in here..."

Evelyn's eyes flew shut the moment she saw him. She spun on her heel to leave immediately.

Slamming the bathroom door behind her, she shot both grandfathers an accusing look for failing to warn her about Dominic's presence. Heat flooded her cheeks.

The elderly men exchanged knowing glances. Having witnessed decades of romantic entanglements, they understood that intimacy - whether physical or visual - was essential for relationship progression.

No stimulation meant no fantasies. No fantasies meant no development.

Reginald Blackwood deliberately ignored Evelyn's discomfort, casually pulling up a chair to peel apples for Reginald Sinclair.

Evelyn stood frozen outside the bathroom, trapped in unbearable awkwardness.

When Dominic emerged in his robe, he walked right past her.

The tall, imposing figure strode directly to his massive bed. The loosely tied robe revealed glimpses of his sculpted abdomen with every movement.

Evelyn retrieved a damp towel and began wiping her grandfather's face. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Much improved...though my health keeps declining." The old man felt guilty about deceiving his granddaughter, but having committed to the charade, he couldn't back out now.

Noticing his dry lips, Evelyn said, "Rest, Grandpa. I'll get you some water."

"Bring Dominic a glass too," he added quickly. "I don't think he's had anything to drink all morning."

Evelyn remained silent. Since her grandfather was recuperating here under the Blackwoods' care, fetching water was the least she could do.

She returned with two glasses moments later.

After helping her grandfather drink, she approached Dominic's bed with the second glass, hesitating.

Dominic lay sprawled across the enormous bed in nothing but a dark robe - one knee bent, the other leg stretched out, arms behind his head. The pose would put magazine models to shame.

From Reginald's vantage point, his grandson looked positively indecent.

Not a single button fastened. Just two loose ties at the waist that barely maintained decency.

Reginald coughed pointedly. "Must you parade around half-naked? Have some decency!"

Dominic's eyes flew open as if noticing Evelyn for the first time.

She quickly set the glass down and averted her gaze.

"Could you bring me a blanket?" Dominic's deep, husky voice resonated through the luxurious bedroom.

"The cupboard has plenty," Reginald interjected. "Fetch one to cover that disgraceful display."

Evelyn glanced at the man on the bed - his closed eyes, furrowed brows, pale lips. Clearly unwell.

"No wonder he's feverish," Reginald tattled. "Out all night in the rain after drinking himself senseless."

Evelyn retrieved a gray blanket from the cupboard.

As her fingers closed around the soft fabric, she remembered - how long had Dominic stood outside her door last night? That morning, she'd smelled rain clinging to his clothes when he hugged her.

No surprise he'd fallen ill after such exposure.

After draping the blanket near him, Evelyn returned to her grandfather's side.

Dominic lay motionless, breathing evenly as if asleep.

"Is my brother sick?" Julian Blackwood's voice preceded his entrance. Dressed in racing gear, he pulled off his gloves as he entered.

His gaze lingered meaningfully on Evelyn, though she couldn't decipher its significance.

"Completely wasted, stood in the rain all night outside someone's door," Julian embellished shamelessly. "Lucky to be alive."

Evelyn bowed her head, guilt twisting inside her.

Yet she knew such discomforts were temporary. She just wished time would hurry up and erase this awkwardness.

"What's this blanket for?" Julian asked.

"To preserve your brother's modesty," Reginald lamented. "In my day, such exhibitionism would earn public scorn!"

Julian promptly adjusted the blanket over the "patient's" lap.

"What's the fuss? He's wearing underwear. Besides, Evelyn's seen it all before," Julian teased, watching the color drain from Evelyn's face.

Old Man Sinclair observed his granddaughter's reaction closely. That blush confirmed his suspicions - these two had been intimate for some time.

He suddenly fantasized about Evelyn carrying Dominic's child. At seventy, he wouldn't need to feign illness much longer if that happened.

Beatrice Lockwood returned mid-morning to an empty house. "Where is everyone?"

"Upstairs in Mr. Dominic's room," the housekeeper answered.

"But he's ill! Why disturb him?" Beatrice hated anyone bothering her recuperating son.

"The elder Mr. Sinclair vomited blood earlier. The doctor just left," the housekeeper whispered.

"Vomited blood?" Beatrice froze.

She'd never met Robert's father properly. Years ago, when Robert took her to meet his parents in that provincial town, she'd turned back at their gate and caught the first taxi back to the city.

That single act cemented her reputation as a gold-digging snob in her father-in-law's eyes.

Now the old man might die in their home?

Beatrice hurried upstairs to assess the situation.