Chapter 270

"Ethan Sullivan, let go!"

Evelyn Sullivan's voice dripped with irritation as she shoved against the man before her. To her surprise, Ethan stumbled back easily this time.

Her breath caught when his towering frame suddenly pitched forward. Instinct made her grab his collar—the heat radiating from his skin burned her palm.

"You—"

Only then did she notice Ethan's tightly shut eyes and the unnatural flush staining his cheeks. She pressed her fingers to his forehead, jerking them back from the scalding temperature.

"Stop faking!" She slapped his face sharply, but got no response.

After a tense hesitation, she hauled him onto the sofa. The thermometer's reading made her stomach clench: 103.3°F.

"What a nuisance." Muttering, she forced antipyretics between his lips.

Colin Keller's voice crackled through the phone, strained with apology. "Ms. Sullivan, I'm out of town—"

Hanging up, Evelyn glared at the unconscious man before kicking the sofa leg.

"Did I owe you in a past life?"

Two hours later, Ethan's fever finally broke. As Evelyn turned toward the kitchen, a faint rustling stopped her.

The aroma of rice porridge filled the air. Ethan stirred awake, following the scent to the kitchen doorway. He leaned against the frame, drinking in the sight of her bustling figure.

"Awake?" Evelyn didn't turn around. "Wait in the living room."

"I want to watch you."

Her hands stilled briefly before resuming their work. She ignored the heat of his gaze—and the warmth creeping up her ears.

At the table, Ethan spoke suddenly. "Thank you."

"Don't." Evelyn set down her chopsticks. "Your ride's coming."

His utensils froze mid-air. "In such a hurry to get rid of me?"

"We ended things long ago."

Lightning split the sky outside, unleashing a torrential downpour. Ethan rose, his tall frame casting a shadow across the table.

"I'll visit another day."

"Don't bother."

The door clicked shut. Evelyn yanked open the curtains—watching his silhouette dissolve into the rain. She snapped them closed again, but couldn't shake the inexplicable ache in her chest.

One week later, Evelyn nearly dropped her champagne flute at a business gala. Her gaze snagged on a familiar figure surrounded by admirers.

Sophia Reynolds followed her stare, gasping. "Isn't that Mr. Sullivan?"