Chapter 365

Vivian's icy gaze remained fixed on Gwendolyn. "Enough. Get up. We're not in some Victorian melodrama."

The way Gwendolyn kept kneeling felt less like submission and more like a veiled challenge. Vivian made a mental note to discuss reducing staff with Adrian later. Something about this maid set her instincts on edge.

"Yes, Mrs. Blackwood," Gwendolyn murmured, rising gracefully. Ethan reappeared in the doorway. "Mr. Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood, security has been instructed to deny him future entry." His sharp glance at Gwendolyn made the maid bow her head. "My deepest apologies. It won't happen again."

Vivian dismissed them both with a wave. "It's late. Thank you for handling this, Ethan." She guided Adrian toward the grand staircase, her hand steady on his uninjured arm.

In their bedroom, Vivian helped Adrian sit on the plush king-size bed. As she turned toward the ensuite bathroom, his fingers closed around her wrist.

"Hmm?" She turned to find his dark eyes burning with unmistakable hunger.

Without words, he pulled her closer. His free hand slipped beneath her silk blouse, tracing heated paths along her skin. His breathing grew ragged against her neck.

Noticing the bandage peeking from his sleeve, Vivian pushed his hand away firmly. "Your stitches—"

Adrian's wounded puppy look made her relent. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. The sound of his zipper descending made her pulse jump. Her gaze dropped involuntarily to the obvious bulge straining against his trousers.

"Take charge," he rasped, voice thick with need. "I'll be good."

Vivian arched an eyebrow. "You? Good?" But she straddled him anyway, biting her lip as she sank down.

Three rounds later, Vivian collapsed against Adrian's chest, every muscle trembling. He chuckled darkly, running possessive hands down her sweat-slicked back. "I'm enrolling you in private Pilates sessions. Your stamina needs work."

Vivian studied his flushed face with suspicion. The man looked positively radiant—far from someone who'd nearly bled out days ago. "Were you actually injured? Or was this some elaborate scheme?"

Adrian arranged his features into a pained expression. "Darling, I'm practically at death's door." He guided her fingers to the bandage. "The axillary artery runs right here. One wrong move and—"

Vivian frowned. "There's a major artery in your armpit?"

"Literature major indeed," Adrian teased, tracing idle circles on her bare thigh. "The brachial artery branches from—"

"Enough anatomy lessons," Vivian groaned, collapsing onto the pillows. "Some of us actually need sleep."

Adrian's answering chuckle followed her into dreams, his arms locking possessively around her waist. The message was clear—she wasn't going anywhere.