Chapter 52
James's breathing became unbearably heavy at that moment, and a crimson flame exploded in his dark, deep eyes!
He was a normal man, facing his ex-wife, whom he loved to the bone, seeing her so defenseless right now—he wanted nothing more than to crush her completely into his very being, to make her carry his scent for all eternity.
But he couldn't.
James grabbed Isabella's wrists as she frantically tore at her clothes, pinning her hands firmly on either side of the pillow.
He clenched his jaw, the burst wounds on the back of his hands intertwining with bulging veins, showing just how inhuman his restraint was at this moment.
He knew her too well.
The Isabella of today wasn't just proud to her core—she had built an iron wall against him. She could throw away visitation rights and child support without hesitation, all just to get a clean break where they'd never see each other again.
If he took advantage of her tonight.
When morning came, when her reason returned, she would definitely see him as nothing but a despicable rapist.
That price—James couldn't afford it. He couldn't take that gamble.
"Damn it!" James closed his eyes tightly, forcibly turning his head away, making himself not look at that scene beautiful enough to make a saint fall.
With one hand restraining the restless Isabella, he struggled to pull his phone from his dress pants pocket with the other hand and pressed Chase's number.
"Listen up!" The moment the call connected, James commanded in a hoarse voice that seemed to roar from his chest.
"Get the Sinclair Group's top medical team with the strongest sedative antidote to my suite right now! And have the private hospital's ambulance ready in the underground parking garage! If they're not here in five minutes, you're all fired!"
"We'll immediately..."
Chase, on the other end, was scared into stammering agreement. But before he could finish.
Isabella, on the bed, had already been tortured by the fire inside her body to the point of losing all patience.
The restraint of having her wrists pinned down made her extremely irritable. Like an enraged, dazzling lioness, she instantly bent her knee and precisely broke free from James's hold.
Using that fierce momentum, Isabella flipped herself up.
Under James's shocked and unprepared gaze, she grabbed the man's exquisitely crafted dark designer tie and yanked it down hard!
James had no time to react as his tall frame fell forward with that pulling force.
The next second.
Two burning soft lips, carrying a faint fruity scent mixed with the metallic taste of blood, unreasonably sealed his thin lips!
Isabella had no technique whatsoever.
Driven by the drug, she instinctively seized that clean, pleasant scent of fir and cedar from the man.
She didn't just kiss him—she aggressively straddled his legs!
She took the absolute dominant position, one hand around the man's neck, the other roughly tearing open his expensive shirt buttons, her burning fingertips igniting fire inch by inch across his firm, muscular chest without restraint.
This wasn't seduction—this was a queen's forceful conquest!
"Mr. Sinclair! Mr. Sinclair, are you still there? The medical team is already in the elevator! Do we need to prepare a stretcher?!"
The phone that had fallen on the carpet wasn't disconnected, and the assistant's anxious voice echoed faintly in the quiet suite.
James's entire body was rigid as iron, violent tremors running from his spine all the way up to his scalp.
Reason? Boundaries? Consequences?
To hell with consequences!
She provoked him first! Even if she'd kill him when morning came, today he was going to sink with her into this endless inferno!
James then reached out his long arm and scooped up the still-chattering phone from the floor.
"No need."
James's voice was low and hoarse like a trapped beast's final growl before breaking free, carrying extreme danger and madness. "Tell them to stop immediately and get out. If anyone dares come near this floor, I'll destroy them."
"Mr. Sinclair? But the antidote..."
"Get lost."
The phone was precisely thrown into a distant trash can, cutting off the call completely.
The next second, James suddenly gripped Isabella's slender waist, turning passive into active, flipping over and pressing this audacious woman deep into the soft velvet bedding!
Kisses like a violent storm came crashing down, leaving no room to breathe...
The night was still long.
The next morning.
When Tech Harbor's first ray of warm sunlight pierced through the gap in the heavy floor-to-ceiling curtains, slanting across the carpet, Isabella, on the bed, suddenly opened her clear eyes.
No splitting headache as expected, no cliché hangover blackout from cheap novels.
Isabella was extremely clearheaded.
Just that every bone in her body felt like it had been run over hundreds of times by a heavy steamroller, so sore it seemed ready to fall apart at any moment.
Those unspeakable intimate places sent waves of indescribable soreness.
She lay quietly on the pillow, looking at the luxurious crystal chandelier on the ceiling. Everything that happened last night, like a high-definition movie on fast-forward, flooded into her mind without any gaps.
From drinking that spiked fruit drink at the banquet, to encountering that disgusting, creepy, fat man, to James appearing at the elevator like a god of death.
Even including later in the suite.
How she lost her reason because of the fire inside her body, how she grabbed his tie, how she straddled him and forced a kiss, and even when he tried his hardest to restrain himself, how she unreasonably tore open his shirt and forcefully dominated this crazy affair.
Isabella closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
She turned her head slightly, looking to the side.
On the wide double bed, James was still asleep. Even in sleep, his face, carved like a deity, still carried an intimidating pressure.
His smooth, sexy back was mostly exposed outside the covers, crisscrossed with several very clear scratches, even with traces of blood.
Those were the evidence she left on his back last night, unable to withstand his final crazy and out-of-control assault.
Isabella looked at those scratches, her expression extremely complicated.
If last night she had been completely forced, if James had taken advantage of her vulnerability, this morning, even with her last breath, she would have grabbed the lamp on the table without hesitation, smashed his head, and sent him to the police station.
But that wasn't the case.