To Love a Shadow, To Be the Sun novel Chapter 277

Elara froze, her whole body going rigid.

Zane paused mid-motion, arching an eyebrow. “Is this some new kind of self-defense?”

She quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m not… clean anymore.”

For a moment, Zane’s expression darkened, and—rare for him—he didn’t snap back with a retort.

He lifted her into the wheelchair and glanced at Quincy Shelton.

Quincy, flustered, pointed toward the front of the car. “Boss, I should park the car first.”

So, once again, the job of getting Elara upstairs landed squarely on Zane’s shoulders.

He shot Quincy a cold look and started wheeling Elara toward the elevator.

At Elara’s apartment door, though, he discovered the wheelchair was too wide—it wouldn’t fit through.

Zane let out a very audible sigh of exasperation and bent down to lift her again.

This time, Elara was ready—she braced her hands on his shoulders, determined not to let him haul her around like a sack of flour.

Somehow, they managed to cross the threshold into her apartment without incident.

Elara exhaled, relief flooding her.

But as Zane carried her in, the warmth of her breath feathered across his ear and neck, sending a shiver down his spine. His steady stride faltered, and before he knew it, his ankle caught on the edge of the rug in front of the sofa.

They tumbled onto the couch, Zane landing squarely on top of her.

For a heartbeat, the only sound in the living room was their mingled, uneven breathing.

She was soft—he’d known that the first time he’d held her. But this heat, this forbidden closeness, was new. It rattled him.

Zane forgot to move. His gaze dropped to her slightly parted lips and stayed there.

Elara’s heart hammered, but she, too, forgot to push him away.

After a few seconds, Zane snapped out of it and started to rise.

But Elara’s fingers curled around his tie—her grip wasn’t strong, but it was enough to hold him in place.

He stared at her, momentarily stunned, his voice husky. “Is that an invitation?”

Elara took a shaky breath, her cheeks burning. She finally blurted out the question that had haunted her for so long.

“The night I had that bad fever… was it you who changed my clothes?”

Something flickered in his eyes. Instead of answering, he countered, “Do you want it to have been me?”

Zane got no answer. He turned away, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

Thirty-something years old, and he’d almost lost control just now.

Thank God for years of iron self-discipline; at least he hadn’t said or done anything truly reckless.

Just then, the intercom at the door buzzed.

Elara tried to get up, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate.

Zane strode to the entryway, and before she could stop him, he picked up the phone.

On the other end, Rose’s cheerful voice rang out, “Elara, I brought you some chicken soup! Tell the security guy to let me in, would you?”

Zane’s eyes narrowed. He paused, then answered blandly, “She’s not here right now.”

With that, he hung up.

Elara stared at him, incredulous.

“You… How could you do that?”

He leaned against the wall, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “What did you expect me to say? Did you want her to walk in and find us here together?”