“Sweetheart.”
Daniel nuzzled into Nora’s hair, his voice rough, tinged with grievance.
“She didn’t touch me.”
His breath was hot—falling against her hair, her cheek—restless and hungry.
Nora frowned and turned her head, trying to avoid him, but there was nowhere to go.
Behind the sofa, Monica stood curled in on herself, watching everything unfold. She couldn’t understand what set her apart from Nora. Daniel would sooner suffer than lay a hand on Monica, but the moment Nora appeared, he clung to her as if nothing else mattered.
Mrs. Chambers’ face was dark with anger. Nora’s arrival had thrown all her careful plans into chaos.
That woman—she’s a vixen, a thief, a homewrecker.
Nora ignored the hateful, scornful stares. She was too busy trying to wriggle free from Daniel’s arms. His feverish skin pressed against her, making her knees go weak.
She shot a glare at Will, who stood nearby, studiously avoiding eye contact, as if he could pretend none of this was happening. “Well? Aren’t you going to get Mr. Chambers to the hospital? If something happens, can you take responsibility?”
Will ducked his head, embarrassed. From the way Mr. Chambers was clinging to Nora, he’d thought it best not to interrupt. But the lady of the house was pregnant, and Mr. Chambers could only look, not touch—hardly fair to anyone.
He stepped forward. “Mr. Chambers, let’s get you to the hospital.”
Daniel loosened his hold, his voice steadier. “Call the family doctor here.”
He couldn’t let Nora clean up this disaster for him.
It took all his willpower just to hold it together.
But he soon realized that when it came to the woman he loved, willpower was a joke.
The restless heat inside him surged. Sweat beaded on his brow.
He tightened his grip around Nora’s hand, his palm growing damp.
His frown deepened.
Suddenly, he shot to his feet, pulling Nora off balance. Before she could regain her footing, he swept her up into his arms.
Nora gasped, her voice low and urgent. “Daniel, put me down.”



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