The bathroom was filled with steam, the air thin and heavy.
The man’s wet arm braced against the side of the tub, his muscles clearly defined, veins bulging.
In that moment, Summer Thorne seemed to forget how to breathe.
Her fading consciousness could only register his invading lips and tongue.
Hot.
Burning.
Entangled with hers.
The feeling of losing control, of having her breath stolen, made her instinctively want to pull back.
But the next instant, the man’s large hand covered the back of her head, pulling her forward instead.
The kiss deepened.
Her body swayed, and she instinctively reached out a hand to steady herself.
The chest beneath her palm was wet and hot.
The searing sensation shocked Summer Thorne back to her senses.
Even though she had prepared herself for this long before, she was still a bit dazed in this moment.
Her gaze focused, and she saw the dark turmoil swirling in Timothy York’s eyes.
He was always so restrained and reserved, polite and distant.
But now, even his breath was domineering and scorching, completely unreasonable.
Just on the other side of the door, Mason Crawford was waiting.
Inside, breaths mingled in a lingering, wet kiss.
Secretly.
Summer Thorne’s heart raced out of control, and the corners of her eyes reddened without warning.
Timothy York’s hand on the back of her head suddenly stiffened.
The next moment, a sharp KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK came from the bathroom door, accompanied by Mason Crawford’s cold, hard voice—
“Summer Thorne, what are you doing in there?
Don’t test my patience!”
Timothy York slowly pulled away from Summer Thorne’s lips.
His gaze fell on her flushed mouth, and he reached out to gently wipe the moisture from the corner.
In what seemed like the blink of an eye, he was back to his old self.
Even though he was still lying in the bathtub.
And she was soaked in spots, all from the water on his body.
Summer Thorne’s breathing hadn’t yet steadied.
For a moment, she didn’t know where to look.
Her gaze drifted down slightly, only to land on something she definitely shouldn’t have seen.
Timothy York was completely uncovered and made no attempt to hide himself.
Summer Thorne suddenly choked and began to cough violently.
Without waiting to recover, she shot to her feet and muttered, “I’ll be going now.”
Before turning, she remembered to turn off the faucet and the shower, then walked out.
Outside the door, the conversation between the two quickly resumed—
“What the hell are you doing?”
Mason Crawford’s eyes darkened as he saw how wet her clothes were.
But Summer Thorne just asked lightly, “Do you care?”
Mason Crawford took a step forward, staring her down.
“Summer Thorne, are you sure you’ve thought through the consequences of acting so wild with me?”
“Based on past experience, the outcome is more or less the same no matter what I do,” Summer Thorne said slowly.
“So, Mr.
Crawford, do you have any more questions for me?”
After saying this, Summer Thorne didn’t linger, turning and walking out of the room.
Soon, quiet returned to the room.
A little while later, the villa’s manager hurried to the open doorway, glanced at the situation inside, and walked quickly to the bathroom door.
He knocked.
“Mr.
York?
Your door was open.
Is everything alright?”
“Close the door for me,” Timothy York instructed in a low voice.
The manager acknowledged and quickly retreated.
Inside the bathroom, Timothy York had gotten out of the tub and was standing under the shower.
As the water cascaded down, steam rose once more.
He slowly closed his eyes, tilting his face up to let the stream wash over him.
But what flashed repeatedly in his mind was the flush of red at the corners of her eyes.
‘She was unwilling, after all.’
‘In the end, this desire is insatiable.’
…
Summer Thorne didn’t have time to sort anything out before she was following Mason Crawford into his car.
The car drove along a mountain road with little traffic, and Summer Thorne’s mind drifted uncontrollably.
“You can talk now.”
Mason Crawford’s icy voice from beside her pulled Summer Thorne back from her thoughts.
Summer Thorne let out a soft breath.
“What if I say I don’t know?”
“Summer Thorne.” The anger in Mason Crawford’s voice was almost impossible to hide.
“If you insist on making yourself suffer, I certainly won’t stop you!”
Hearing this, Summer Thorne fell silent.
Just then, Mason Crawford’s phone rang.
The car’s interior was silent as it drove smoothly, and Summer Thorne could clearly hear the report from the other end of the line—
“Mr.
Crawford, Miss Serena Garrison is back.
She’s fine.”
Mason Crawford’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.
He only responded coldly, “Got it.”
Summer Thorne heard but pretended she hadn’t, showing no reaction at all.
A moment later, Mason Crawford’s voice came again.
“Summer Thorne, remember what you said.
If anything happens to Serena, I’ll hold you responsible.”
Summer Thorne couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.
“You seem to have forgotten, you’ve always held me responsible for everything.
So, no need to remind me.”
On the deserted mountain road, the black Bentley came to a smooth stop.
Then, Summer Thorne was forced out of the car alone.
She stood on the side of the road and watched as the vehicle drove away.
The driver, glancing at Summer Thorne’s shrinking figure in the rearview mirror, finally couldn’t help but speak up.
“Mr.
Crawford, we’re in the middle of nowhere.
For your wife to be alone here—”
Mason Crawford sneered.
“What?
Are you afraid something will happen to her?
You really underestimate her.”
‘She’s Summer Thorne, after all.’
Sure enough, about twenty minutes after Mason Crawford’s car had driven off, a staff member from the villa arrived, driving Summer Thorne’s car.
Summer Thorne flagged it down and got in.
It was three in the afternoon when she got back to the city.
Summer Thorne first went to the police station to file a report.
After leaving the matter concerning Hazel Morgan with the police, she returned to her company.
The office was empty on the weekend.
She was the only one there, reading through documents, and she stayed until nine at night.
When she finally thought to check the time, Summer Thorne quickly grabbed her phone, found Timothy York’s number, and called it.
The phone rang for a long time, but no one answered.
Summer Thorne stared blankly at her phone screen for a moment, then dialed another number.
The two words “Ivan Gray” popped up on the screen.
…
At eleven o’clock at night, Timothy York returned to Stillwater, his residence in the city center.
The private elevator opened directly onto his floor.
The moment the doors slid open, a dark intensity once again flooded Timothy York’s eyes.
On the shoe bench by the door, which was always empty, sat Summer Thorne.
Her head was tilted, and she was dozing off, struggling to keep herself upright.
As Timothy York stepped out of the elevator, her eyes snapped open.
A smile instantly lit up her bright eyes.
She stood up, walked toward him, and immediately reached out to touch his forehead.
However, Timothy York tilted his head slightly, avoiding her touch.
Summer Thorne froze for a second, then said, “I just wanted to see if you still have a fever.”
“Much better,” Timothy York replied faintly.
“I brought you some medicine.
I was worried you might not have any at home since you just got back to the country.” Summer Thorne smiled again.
“I also brought you some congee.
I had my housekeeper make it specially.
She’s a great cook, and she made a few side dishes too.
If you don’t have much of an appetite, some warm congee will help you feel more comfortable.”
As she spoke, she turned to pick up the things she’d left on the bench, but as she bent down, she seemed to realize something and looked back at him.
The coldness in his eyes was a little too obvious.
Summer Thorne slowly straightened up.
After a moment, she said softly, “I’m disturbing you, aren’t I?”
Timothy York gave her a heavy look and said slowly, “When my fever was high, my mind wasn’t very clear.
I’m not sure what I did.
If I offended you, I hope you can forgive me.”