Chapter 178

Nathaniel's gaze burned with raw hunger as he pinned Evelyn against the wall like a predator cornering its prey. "What if I say you're exactly my type now?"

A deafening crack of thunder split the sky. The gentle drizzle transformed into a violent storm within seconds, wind howling through the trees.

Evelyn blinked in disbelief before letting out a dry laugh. "Hear that? Even the heavens think you're full of it. One lightning strike coming right up for your pathetic attempt at seduction."

Seduction?

Nathaniel's jaw clenched, veins pulsing visibly at his temples.

She sighed dramatically. "The toxin's messing with your head. I get it—you'd jump anything in a skirt right now."

She 'got it'?

"Evelyn Whitmore!" His voice was a growl, hot breath laced with expensive tobacco brushing her lips. "What the hell do you take me for?"

Evelyn squared her shoulders, defiance flashing in her eyes. "A man who's one bad decision away from becoming a walking hormone bomb!"

"Damn straight I am!" Nathaniel snarled, chest heaving. Every ragged breath betrayed his crumbling self-control.

Without warning, he crushed his mouth against hers.

Evelyn's eyes flew wide. She twisted violently, teeth sinking into his lower lip. The metallic tang of blood shocked him into releasing her.

Panting, Nathaniel staggered back. He turned abruptly, fists white-knuckled at his sides. Heavy footsteps echoed as he headed for the door.

"Wait!" Evelyn called out, voice unsteady despite her relief. "Where are you going?"

"Car." The word was gritted out. "Be ready by seven tomorrow."

Every nerve in his body screamed—fire ants crawling beneath his skin. Staying meant disaster.

Truth was, he'd never consider forcing her. Not even when he found her calling contacts to arrange some random woman for him after his cold shower failed. Twenty minutes of icy water wasted because of this infuriating woman.

Evelyn bit her lip, watching his retreating form. Paralysis. Death. The grim outcomes flashed through her mind if he didn't get relief.

Twenty-three days together. The auction bid. Countless small kindnesses beneath his gruff exterior.

Outside, rain lashed the windows like bullets. No woman would make it through this storm in time.

A life-altering choice loomed: let a good man suffer permanent damage... or become his solution.

Her stomach twisted. Virginity aside, Nathaniel got poisoned because of Cassandra. Because of her.

And still, he'd raced through the storm to save her tonight.