Chapter 593

Rosalind studied Everett with growing concern.

"Something's wrong with you," she murmured, pressing her palm against his chest. "You're scorching hot!"

Everett's eyes flickered with crimson embers, his jaw clenched tight with restraint. He shouldn't have come to Rosalind tonight—but resisting the pull toward her had been impossible.

"Drugged," he rasped.

Rosalind's breath hitched. "Again?"

The word slipped out before she could stop it. This wasn't the first time someone had slipped something into Everett's drink.

"Was it Genevieve's father?" she demanded, suspicion sharpening her tone.

A low, affirmative grunt was his only reply.

Rosalind exhaled sharply, irritation sparking in her gaze. "What does he want? To force you into Genevieve's bed?"

Everett remained silent, his smoldering stare answering for him.

Rosalind scoffed, though her fingers curled into his shirt. "Honestly, Everett. First the heiresses, now mafia princesses. They'll stoop to anything to claim you, won't they?"

Without warning, Everett crushed his lips to hers, swallowing her words in a searing kiss.

Rosalind's pulse skyrocketed. Her arms wound around his neck instinctively, returning the kiss with equal fervor.

With the woman he loved in his arms, Everett's control shattered. Heat scorched through his veins, every nerve alight with desperate need.

Rosalind's freshly showered skin carried the delicate scent of jasmine. Everett buried his face against her throat, inhaling deeply as if starved.

Her eyes darkened with understanding. "What now?"

Everett's voice was rough. "Cold shower."

"Come with me."

She led him upstairs to her bedroom—a soft, feminine space awash in blush tones and lace, the air sweet with vanilla.

"The bathroom's here," she said, gesturing.

Everett vanished inside without another word.

The rush of water filled the silence. Rosalind slipped out briefly, returning with fresh clothes and a towel. She knocked lightly on the bathroom door.

"Everett? I brought you—"

No response.

Her knocks grew more urgent. "Everett!"

Still nothing.

Dread coiled in her stomach. The drug had clearly taken hold earlier—what if he'd collapsed?

"Everett, open this door!"

Her hand closed around the knob just as the door swung inward. Rosalind stumbled forward, crashing into Everett's bare chest.

She jerked her gaze up. "Are you—"

Water droplets slid down his sharp jawline, his damp skin glistening under the soft light.

"Fine," he ground out.

Rosalind exhaled sharply. "Then why didn't you answer? I thought—"

Everett suddenly pinned her against the wall.

Rosalind froze. Then her eyes widened—Everett stood before her, gloriously unclothed.

"Oh!" She slapped both hands over her face.

Everett's low chuckle vibrated against her. "Suddenly shy? I thought you were bolder than this."