Chapter 348

Nathaniel felt Harrison's delicate fingers tracing desperate paths across his chest. In her feverish urgency, she ripped a button from his shirt with a sharp pop.

His throat tightened as he swallowed hard, capturing her wandering hands in his larger grip.

"Harrison, easy. I don't have a change of clothes here."

If his shirt was destroyed, he'd be left with nothing.

But Harrison wasn't listening. She craved warmth—needed it desperately. She wrenched her hands free and buried her face against his neck with a whimper. "I'm freezing..."

Her voice, weakened by illness, came out in a breathy plea, almost childlike in its sweetness.

Not that Nathaniel needed reminding—even at her healthiest, she knew exactly how to melt against him, all soft sighs and whispered pleas in bed.

She had always been his little siren.

It had been too long since he'd last tasted her—since their divorce tore them apart.

Nathaniel clenched his jaw, fighting the urge—and lost. His fingers found the buttons of her blouse, working them open with deliberate slowness.

Then everything unraveled.

He flipped her beneath him, fabric tangling—his half-discarded white shirt, her clothes peeling away. The sharp lines of his shoulders flexed as he moved, the deep groove of his spine contrasting with the chilled silk of Harrison's fingers as they traced his back.

When he pressed against her, their bodies clashed—her skin like ice, his burning with barely restrained hunger. A collision of opposites, raw and electric.

Dangerous. Thrilling.

In the dim silence of this remote village, the heat between them ignited like wildfire, consuming everything in its path.

A sharp gasp escaped Harrison as if she'd been burned.

Nathaniel stared down at her delicate face—the same face that had always drawn men effortlessly. Even now, it ensnared him all over again.

He caught her chin between his fingers and crushed his mouth to hers.

Harrison felt like she'd been thrown into an inferno. The heat was unbearable, suffocating—she twisted away, but his weight pinned her down. Then something slipped between her lips, and her brows furrowed in protest, a muffled whimper catching in her throat. Her small hands shoved weakly against his chest.

"G-Get off me..."

The village outside was deathly silent. Nathaniel had no idea how secure this room truly was. Felicity—or anyone—could burst in at any moment.

He dragged the blanket over them, his voice a rough whisper against her ear. "Shh. Quiet."

His lips trailed to her cheek, then the sensitive curve below her ear, his knee nudging her legs apart.

Her entire body tensed, a sharp crease forming between her brows as she twisted away. "No... stop..."

Then—

Harrison's lashes fluttered wildly, and suddenly, her eyes flew open.

She was awake.

The first thing she saw was Nathaniel's face—his aristocratic features darkened with something far from gentlemanly.

Why was he here?

Harrison's mind blanked as she struggled to piece together her memories.

Nathaniel's gaze burned down at her, the edges of his eyes bloodshot. He knew she was awake now. She stared up at him, dazed, her wide eyes utterly lost—innocent in a way that shattered his self-control.

Men were visual creatures—and Nathaniel was no exception. He was helpless against her beauty.

He dipped his head to claim her mouth again.

This time, Harrison jerked her face away, fully alert now. "Nathaniel! Why are you here? Let me go!"

His voice came out rough. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that now?"

Her thoughts spun. She remembered being stranded here with Sebastian, wondering if Nathaniel would even bother coming for her.

And now, here he was—taking advantage of her while she was feverish and helpless!

Her voice shook. "Have you forgotten? We're divorced!"