Chapter 4

Sawyer snapped, "Do you even remember who your boss is? Anything you do should be reported to me first, not to some regular coworker."

Madeline felt incredibly unsettled. Sawyer was standing way too close to her. His breath hit the collar of her shirt as he spoke, and it was hot enough to make her face burn and her heart race.

"I understand. I'll report to you first from now on," she said.

She started toward the kitchen's prep station, holding the bowls.

Sawyer caught her by the arm. Her skin felt soft and silky, exactly like in his dream.

Madeline jumped and instinctively tried to pull away.

Sawyer was burning up and wasn't thinking straight. His dream from earlier hadn't faded yet. Her struggling in the dream had already set him off, so when she tried to resist again now, he grabbed both her hands like he'd done in the dream. The bowls slipped free from her grasp and smashed on the floor, the shards scattering.

The sound jolted Sawyer out of his fever-induced haze. He let go without thinking.

Madeline quickly crouched to pick up the shards, feeling frantic. She didn't dare look up, afraid that he would see how red her face was.

"Leave them." Sawyer looked down at her.

Her mind was in a mess, so she didn't hear him.

He snapped impatiently, "I said, leave them!"

Madeline flinched, startled by his bark. A shard sliced her finger, and blood oozed out.

Sawyer grabbed her wrist and yanked her to her feet, lifting her finger to his mouth without thinking.

She panicked and forgot about restraint, pressing her other hand against his chest to push him back. "No!"

His eyes were bloodshot. "You're rejecting me again? What am I, a monster? You think I'll eat you up?"

Knowing that he'd misunderstood, she hastily explained, "It's not that. Your mouth is full of wounds. It's not hygienic to do this. It'll make your wounds hurt."

"Damn it!" Sawyer knew that she was right, but he was still annoyed. He cursed, then dragged her over to the sink.

His expression was stormy, and the air around him was heavy. Madeline wasn't scared, though. She was only worried that his fever hadn't broken and that getting angry would make things worse. For a moment, she forgot about keeping her distance and just went along with him.

Sawyer seemed to have forgotten about his gynophobia. He enveloped her in his arms, reaching past her from behind to hold her hand under the running water.

Madeline's heart felt like it was about to leap out of her throat. This was her first time being this close to him. His heat radiated from his chest into her back. His fever felt contagious; she felt like she was burning up, too.

She drank in his unexpected embrace and concern. At the same time, bleak thoughts hit her. When his fever broke and he remembered touching her like this, would he hurt himself again? Would he fire her on the spot?

"What are you thinking about? I asked if it hurts."

Sawyer's deep voice rumbled behind her, and his hot breath fanned over her. Her ears twitched without her meaning to.

He noticed this and paused. Then, he mischievously blew on her ear.

Madeline bit down hard to keep from crying out, but her body instinctively tried to lean away. However, she was trapped in his arms with nowhere to go. She ended up pressing even closer to his chest.

She shut her eyes in despair. She'd done it now. She had tripped every wire and stomped all over his boundaries. She figured that when he was lucid tomorrow, he would fire her without hesitation.

"Why are you shaking so hard? Does it hurt that much? Let me see how deep the cut is."

Sawyer pulled a few paper towels and wiped both their hands clean. He then lifted her finger and bent to inspect it.

Madeline jerked her hand back and hid it behind her. "It's fine. It's nothing."

Sawyer's hand stayed raised as he gave her a questioning look. He couldn't understand why she was suddenly giving him attitude again.

Madeline didn't dare stay so close to him. She went to grab a broom and a dustpan to clean up.

Sawyer smacked the broom out of her hand and snarled, "I just washed your cut, and you're grabbing something dirty? Are you treating your boss' kindness like trash? Get over here!"

He reached for her. When she tried to dodge him again, he got mad and hauled her back to the sink. He gave her hand another rough rinse before wiping it dry. After that, he dragged her to the bedroom and tossed her onto the couch.

When she tried to get up, he barked, "Stay put! Don't you dare stand up again."

Madeline had no choice but to sit there stiffly.

Sawyer quickly emerged from the bathroom with the medical kit. He sat beside her and started rifling through it. After a while, he frowned and irritably asked, "Which one's the disinfectant? Why isn't there an instruction sheet?"

Madeline sighed helplessly and reached for a tube of ointment. "All the medicine in this kit is custom-made. There's no packaging because they're not on the market, but they're labeled. This one, No.3, is for disinfection. I'll be fine with this."

Sawyer tossed the kit aside and took the ointment from her. He opened it, sniffed it, and uncertainly asked, "Are you sure you can use this?"

She nodded.

He still wasn't convinced. He grabbed his phone, stepped out to call the family doctor to confirm, then came back. "It's fine to use. Give me your hand."

Madeline hid her hand behind her back. "I can do it myself. Just give it to me."

Sawyer looked up. His damp, messy hair gave him a wild, gorgeous edge, but his eyes were fierce. "I told you to give me your hand."

Madeline had no choice but to hold it out. She kept her eyes down and watched as he carefully applied the ointment. It was a small cut—deep enough to sting, but it would heal in three or four days. She didn't think there was any need to treat it this seriously.

"Say something if it hurts," Sawyer said. His tone was impatient, but his touch was gentle.

She didn't say anything.

When he didn't get a response, he suddenly pressed down hard on the wound.

"Ouch!" Madeline cried out, caught off guard by the pain. She scrunched up her face at him.

He clicked his tongue and gave a wicked laugh. "I know you're good at putting up with a lot of trash, but don't hold it in now."

She frowned and turned her head away, hating that he always suspected her motives for being near him. Indeed, her motives weren't pure, but she would never hurt him, and she wasn't what he thought she was. She wasn't a spy planted by a senior executive seeking to wrest control.

She was just secretly in love with him. She wanted to see him every day and be just a little closer to him.

Sawyer drawled mockingly, "What? Did I hit a nerve? You keep giving me attitude, so it must be because I've spoiled—"

Before he could finish speaking, Madeline shot to her feet. "It's late. I should go."

Sawyer suddenly swept the medical kit off the table, making the pills and tubes inside scatter across the floor. "Did I say you could leave? It looks like those two weeks out in the wild made you forget what a personal secretary is supposed to do. Pick all of that up."

Madeline didn't turn around. She stood by the door, unmoving. It was her first time disobeying him.

She had taken a flight and several buses without rest, just so she could get back early and see him. She was really exhausted, and right now she couldn't help but feel wounded.