Chapter 230

Chapter 230
Elsa

I'd been foolish enough to think it meant something. That beneath his cold exterior, Drake truly cared for me. Then came Vera, and those fragile hopes had shattered like glass.

"I can't do this again," I said, pulling my hand away from his burning cheek, my fingers trembling. "I'll call Taylor to come get you. This isn't my problem anymore, damn it."

Drake's hand shot out, surprisingly strong despite his condition, gripping my wrist. "Please," he said, the word sounding foreign on his lips. "I don't want anyone else to see me like this."

"That's not my fucking problem," I insisted, though my resolve was already weakening, my treacherous heart softening at the sight of him so vulnerable. "Back then, I was your assistant. Taking care of you was literally my job."

"Is that all it was?" His eyes, bright with fever, locked onto mine. "Just a job?"

I looked away, unable to hold his gaze, my chest tight with emotions I refused to name. "What do you want from me, Drake?" I whispered, voice cracking.

He tugged me closer, until I was kneeling beside him on the floor. "What I've always wanted," he murmured, his arms encircling my waist, head resting against my stomach. "You. Just you."

I stared in shock as Drake swayed on his feet, his skin unnaturally flushed. Without thinking, I reached out and pressed my palm against his forehead, yanking it back almost immediately from the intensity of the heat.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you're burning up," I muttered, medical concern momentarily overriding my anger. My stomach twisted with unwanted worry. "You must have at least 102 degrees, maybe higher."

Drake's normally sharp gaze was glassy and unfocused. He leaned heavily against the doorframe, his breathing labored, chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. "Not feeling my best," he admitted, his voice raspier than usual.

"You need to go to your room and call a goddamn doctor," I said firmly, trying to step back, my heart hammering traitorously in my chest. Drake reached for me, his movements clumsy as he caught my wrist, fingers hot as brands against my skin.

"I don't need a doctor." He pulled me closer, nearly stumbling in the process, his scent—fevered but still unmistakably him—making my wolf whine with concern. "I don't need a fucking assistant. I just need you, Elsa."

The raw desperation in his voice made my wolf stir, responding to his vulnerability in a way that infuriated me. I tried to disentangle myself from his grip, twisting my arm and shoving against his chest, but he only held tighter.

"What the hell happened to you?" I asked, reluctantly helping him to the couch when it became clear he wasn't leaving. My traitorous hands lingered on his arm, feeling the heat radiating through his clothes.

Drake collapsed onto the cushions with a groan, his eyes half-closed. "Got caught in the rain." He coughed, the sound rattling deep in his chest. "Didn't think much of it until I started feeling like shit about an hour ago."

I crossed my arms, digging my nails into my biceps, maintaining what little distance I could. "Fine. I'll call you a cab to take you to the hospital. Just get the fuck out of my room."

"No hospital," he growled, suddenly looking more alert. "No doctors, baby. My head is killing me."

Before I could protest, Drake reached for me again, his movements surprisingly quick for someone so ill. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, tugging me down until I was sitting beside him. He leaned in, brushing his lips against my cheek, his breath hot against my skin. I shivered, hating myself for it.

"Just let me rest with you for a while," he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, intimate register that always made my knees weak and my core clench. "That's all I need."

Anger flared inside me, bright and hot, pulsing behind my eyes. I jerked away from him, nearly stumbling to my feet.

"Give me back my fucking key card, Drake," I snarled, hands balling into fists at my sides. "This is completely inappropriate. How did you even get in here?"

Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through mine, palm burning against my skin. The contact sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine, my traitorous body responding to his touch despite everything. Damn him and damn my weakness.

"Things are behind us now, aren't they?" he said, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. "We can move forward."

"Move forward?" I yanked my hand away so violently I nearly hit myself in the chest, incredulous laughter bubbling up in my throat. "Are you fucking kidding me? You've been protecting Vera this entire time! After everything she's done!"

Drake's expression darkened, a flash of the predator visible beneath his fever-weakened exterior. "I told you, I looked into the caretaker situation. Vera wasn't behind it."

"If not her, then who?" I demanded, my voice rising to nearly a shout as I paced in front of him, hands gesturing wildly. "Who else would have anything to gain from hurting my mother? Bullshit, Drake. Complete bullshit!"

Drake's silence was damning. He looked away, sweat beading on his forehead, and I knew he was hiding something. My teeth clenched so hard my jaw ached.

"I can't fucking believe you," I spat, running both hands through my hair and pulling at the roots in frustration. "You just expect me to forget everything and play nurse because you got caught in the damn rain? We shouldn't even be alone together like this. It's not appropriate."

Something in Drake's expression shifted, his fever-bright eyes narrowing. "Wasn't appropriate last night either, was it? When you were cradling my head against your stomach? Stroking my hair?" His voice took on a cruel edge. "But you didn't seem to care about propriety then."

The reminder of my weakness, my inability to push him away even when I should, felt like a slap. My face burned with humiliation. I grabbed my jacket from the back of the couch and hurled it at him with all the force I could muster.

"You selfish bastard!" I shouted, hands trembling with rage, voice cracking. "Get out, Drake. I fucking mean it!"

He made no move to leave, watching me with that infuriating mixture of amusement and desire that always left me feeling exposed. Then, abruptly, his expression changed. His eyes rolled back, and he began to slump forward, his large frame folding in on itself.