Chapter 312
Nathaniel glanced toward the garage.
His voice dropped to a low warning. "For your safety, you need to lie down."
"Lie down?" Isabella frowned at the strange instruction.
Before she could question him further, he pulled her arm.
She tumbled forward, landing across his lap.
His clean, masculine scent filled her senses.
The position was completely improper.
She struggled to sit up.
"Someone's there," he stated curtly.
Two words. Grave and serious.
She immediately stopped moving.
The tinted windows of Nathaniel's car were no match for modern paparazzi equipment. Their high-tech cameras could see right through them. If a photographer captured Isabella sitting beside Nathaniel, Vivienne would undoubtedly show the evidence to Reginald Blackwood.
Isabella had no choice. She remained pressed against his thigh.
Nathaniel hit the accelerator. The car shot out of the garage.
The man hiding outside the mansion scowled. The car emerged from a different exit? That was suspicious.
Someone else must be inside. He raised his camera, focusing the lens on the vehicle.
He was startled to see only Nathaniel driving. No passenger.
How odd. Where was Isabella? Why use a different garage then?
The car accelerated onto the main road. Golden evening light glinted off its polished surface.
Once certain they weren't being followed, Isabella began to push herself upright.
A sharp pain shot through her scalp. She cried out.
Her hair was caught. Tangled in the zipper of his pants.
She tugged at the metal fastener in a panic.
Nathaniel had no choice. He swerved, pulling over beneath a large tree.
"Don't move," he commanded. "Let me handle it."
Mortified, Isabella dropped her hands.
Nathaniel carefully gathered her hair, moving it to one side. A single strand was tightly wound around the zipper's teeth. He tried to work it free gently.
His efforts only made it worse. More hairs became ensnared in the metal.
Isabella's neck ached from holding her head at an awkward angle. She shifted slightly to relieve the strain.
"How is it going?" she asked, her voice strained.
"Bear with me," he replied softly, his focus entirely on the delicate task.