Chapter 990

Evelyn stepped onto the balcony, dialing Nathan's number while waiting for the ice pack.

Nathan sounded genuinely shocked when he answered. "Evelyn? I was just about to call you. Great minds think alike—"

"Nathan Blackwood, does punching people make you feel powerful? Why don't you try hitting yourself next time?" Evelyn hissed through clenched teeth. 'That bastard deserves worse than just a scolding.'

Silence stretched for several beats before Nathan responded icily. "He tattled on me?" His tone dripped with contempt.

Evelyn inhaled sharply. "He didn't need to! The bruises speak for themselves!"

A derisive snort came through the line. It hadn't even been a proper fight. Preston couldn't take one punch?

"If you ever lay hands on anyone close to me again, I'll make you regret it," Evelyn threatened. 'Did he think he owned the monopoly on violence? The arrogant prick!' She slammed the phone down before Nathan could respond.

Harrison, standing beside Nathan, heard every word. Just as he'd suspected—Preston's entire visit had been a ploy to manipulate Evelyn's sympathy with his injuries. Nathan never stood a chance against such tactics.

The doorbell rang.

Evelyn checked the monitor—Sterling family doctors had arrived. She ushered them inside quickly. The familiar male and female physicians followed her to the bedroom while she retrieved the ice pack from the kitchen.

After wrapping the ice in a towel, the doctors emerged. "How is he?" Evelyn asked anxiously.

The male doctor adjusted his glasses. "We've administered fever reducers. They should take effect within the hour. As for the facial injuries..."

The female doctor hesitated before producing a tube. "This salve should help, but the bruising will need two to three days to fade completely."

Evelyn exhaled in relief. "Thank you." Accepting the medication, she saw them out before returning to the bedroom with the ice pack. Preston sat propped against the headboard, breathing slightly labored. When she offered the compress, he made no move to take it.

Instead, he fixed her with an intense stare, tilting his chin slightly—a silent demand for her to do it.

Too exhausted to argue with a patient, Evelyn complied. As she settled beside him, his subtle masculine scent—something woodsy with a citrus undertone—wrapped around her senses, momentarily disorienting her.

She pressed the cold compress gently against his swollen cheekbone, carefully massaging the inflamed area. Her brows knitted in concentration.

She didn't notice how his dark gaze remained fixed on her face until her wrist began aching, prompting her to switch hands.

Their eyes locked.

His fathomless dark irises swirled like a maelstrom, exerting an almost gravitational pull. Beneath that controlled surface lurked a tempest of restrained emotion—and at its eye, an unmistakable hunger for her.

Evelyn found herself paralyzed, trapped in that magnetic gaze.

Some invisible force dragged her deeper into those dangerous depths.

Every raw emotion in his eyes translated clearly across his features, spelling out one primal message: "I want to devour you."

As the charged silence stretched, he leaned closer—so near she could count his long lashes, feel his breath ghosting over her lips.

Evelyn's breath hitched. Her muscles locked.

He gave her no time to process his intentions.

Cool, firm lips captured hers.

Electric shockwaves jolted down Evelyn's spine. The compress slipped from her suddenly numb fingers, forgotten.

Strong arms banded around her slender waist, eliminating any possibility of retreat. His embrace—so encompassing it nearly swallowed her whole—left no room for escape.

Nathan's breathing grew ragged, his body temperature spiking until Evelyn felt her own skin catch fire.