Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

After she finished wiping him down, Clara let out a long sigh, pulled the blanket over him, and looked up. "Feeling any better?"

Her eyes were so clear, so honest, it almost made him want to scream.

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned his head and stared out the window.

Clara had no clue what he was mad about this time, but whatever it was, it was starting to get on her nerves too.

She tossed the towel into the basin and left the room without another word.

Seriously, what was his deal? The man was a walking minefield-you never knew what would set him off.

The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she got. By the time she stepped out into the hallway, she was fuming and ran right into the housekeeper coming up the stairs.noveldrama

The housekeeper greeted her with a big, friendly smile. "Mrs. Carter, dinner's ready. Why don't you come down and have a bite? We made some soup for you since it's that time of the month."

Clara felt like she was already full-full of frustration.

"I'm good, thanks. Just bring some up for him, okay?"

She turned and headed for the guest room, shutting the door a little too hard behind her.

The housekeeper didn't dare ask anything else. Instead, she hurried to the master bedroom and knocked softly. "Sir, dinner's ready, we "

She didn't even get to finish before a quiet voice cut her off.

"Not hungry."

Great. The housekeeper had no idea what was going on with these two tonight.

Baffled, she went back downstairs and looked at the untouched dishes on the table, sighing.

*

Aiden got home around eleven that night and was immediately cornered by the worried housekeeper.

"Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Carter ate dinner. She's been upstairs all night and wouldn't come down. We didn't want to pry. Aiden, she's not feeling well today either, and she didn't even touch the ginger tea we made her."

Aiden hadn't been in meetings all evening-he'd just hung out at the office, enjoying the peace and quiet. He hated getting caught between those two.

He rubbed his temples. "You guys go to bed. I'll take care of it."

First, he stopped by Dylan's room and pushed the door open quietly.

The lights were still on. Dylan was wide awake, flipping through those little red marriage

certificates-again. He'd probably read them a hundred times by now.

Aiden sighed to himself. "Boss, want something to eat?"

Dylan didn't answer. He slipped the booklets into his nightstand drawer and started twirling a ring between his fingers.

Not the wedding band that one never left his hand. This was a different ring. Aiden waited, patient as ever.

Finally, after a long silence, Dylan muttered, “She doesn't have feelings for me. Not that way."

He meant the kind of feelings that sparked between a man and a woman.

Clara didn't have those for him. She was too honest, too straightforward, too clean.

No spark, no desire.

Even if she was right there in front of him, if she didn't like him, that was that.

She'd even said it herself-give her decades, and she still wouldn't fall for him. Aiden just nodded, already used to Dylan's moods.

"She might not love you now, but you're the only one she'd ever share a marriage license with. That means something."

Leave it to Aiden to say exactly what Dylan needed to hear.

A slow smile tugged at Dylan's lips. He squeezed the ring in his hand. "Yeah. You're right."

Aiden relaxed a little. "Come on, eat

something. There's no point fighting with her, She's got a big heart, doesn't respond to pressure, and probably has no clue why you're upset."

No one was more oblivious than Clara.

Seeing Dylan start to come around, Aiden kept going. "Besides, she was forced into this marriage, but she didn't freak out or try to leave. Honestly, I think she's just slow to pick up on feelings-especially this kind. Maybe you just need to show her the way."

Dylan looked down, slowly opening his hand.

Yeah, Clara had been extra clueless since she lost her memory. If she hadn't

been, he never would've had a shot at holding on to her.

He pressed his lips to the ring.

At least this much, he thought, was something he'd earned.