Chapter 91

Harrison was carefully lifted into the back of Nathaniel's Bentley Continental, her slender form settled gently into the plush leather seat.

Nathaniel slid behind the wheel, his strong hands gripping the steering wheel effortlessly. The powerful engine roared to life as he pressed the accelerator, sending the luxury car gliding down the rain-slicked road.

Wrapped in his tailored coat, Harrison inhaled his crisp cedarwood scent mixed with the faintest hint of bergamot. His residual warmth seeped into her chilled skin, making her cheeks flush pink. An unfamiliar flutter stirred in her chest. She never expected him to come.

Five years ago, he hadn't.

But tonight, he appeared like a storm.

Harrison turned to study his sharp profile—the strong jawline, the slight furrow between his brows.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Nathaniel's fingers tightened on the wheel. His voice came out clipped. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Her breath hitched.

"I asked repeatedly. Why keep silent?" His tone turned glacial. "Do you realize what could've happened if I'd arrived thirty seconds later?"

Harrison felt his anger like physical heat. Tears pricked her eyes. "Why are you shouting at me?"

Nathaniel went silent, his stormy gaze scanning her tear-streaked face. The injustice in her expression made his chest constrict.

She could've avoided this. That bastard had been on top of her, her blouse torn—another minute and—

But seeing her now, so fragile with those shimmering eyes, his anger dissolved. She looked breakable, like porcelain.

He adjusted the climate control. "Still cold?"

She shook her head.

"Harrison." His voice deepened.

She met his gaze.

"When you were young, did you ever—"

Nathaniel needed to know if she was the girl from his past.

A deafening crack of thunder interrupted. Rain hammered the windshield like bullets.

The radio buzzed with a weather alert: "Category 4 tornado approaching Willowbrook. Seek immediate shelter."

They were two hours from home on an exposed highway. The storm had escalated into a monster.

Nathaniel swerved onto an exit ramp, pulling into a roadside inn's parking lot.

"We're staying tonight," he stated.

Harrison nodded.

The inn was modest but clean. The middle-aged clerk gaped at Nathaniel. "Checking in alone, handsome?"

Harrison almost laughed. Nathaniel commanded attention wherever he went—six-foot-three in a custom suit, radiating power.

"One suite," Nathaniel said flatly. "With my wife."

The clerk blinked as Harrison stepped from behind his broad frame. Her polite smile softened the woman's disappointment.

"Room 512." The clerk handed over the key. "Mini-bar items have additional charges—price list's on the nightstand."