Semua Bab I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis: Bab 91 - Bab 100

Her bra and panties were soaked through.Not a good idea to leave them on.Mirabelle squirmed when he reached for the bra clasp, but his voice cut through the fog again—low, steady, close to her ear.‘It’s me. Ashton. You’re safe now.’Her breath hitched, then she went still.He stripped off the last of the soaked fabric, towelled her off again, and reached for the change of clothes.A white dress shirt and suit trousers, both at least two sizes too big.They were his.There were women in the house—his brother’s wife, his stepmother—but the idea of Mirabelle wearing anything of theirs made something primal crawl under his skin.He slipped the shirt over her shoulders, buttoned it up, rolled the cuffs.The trousers he folded at the waist and cinched loosely with one of his ties.She looked like she’d wandered out of his closet half-asleep, hair damp, skin flushed, drowning in layers of fabric.Her eyes were barely open.She was somewhere else entirely.Ashton stood and shifted his weig

Ashton was already moving before the maid had finished speaking.He took the stairs four at a time and reached the second floor in a matter of seconds.Not stopping to catch his breath, he shoved open the bedroom door.Mirabelle was buried under a pile of thick duvets, face flushed scarlet.Her skin had been bloodless just half an hour ago, ghost-pale and ice-cold after she’d nearly drowned.Now she looked like she was overheating from the inside out.Her eyes were screwed tightly shut.‘She started heating up a while ago,’ the maid behind him stammered. ‘I got a thermometer and… it’s forty degrees and climbing.’Ashton strode over, pressed the back of his hand to her cheek.She wasn’t just burning up; her skin was scalding.He just picked her up—duvet and all—cradled her to his chest, and turned on his heel.‘Hospital. Now.’Downstairs, the room buzzed with shocked whispers, but Ashton barely registered them.He swept through the hallway, his footsteps thudding over the marble floor,

I floated.Not in water. Not anymore.But my limbs felt loose, weightless, like gravity had forgotten me.I drifted in and out of sleep, memories slipping through the cracks.Ashton’s arms. The sting of pool water against my skin.A towel. A bed. Sleep. But not for long.Then the blur of movement—his chest under my cheek, the lurch of a car.I was somewhere else after that. Multiple voices, hands on my forehead and wrist, an electronic beep, receding footsteps, then a different kind of quiet. Cooler air. Sterile, sharp.A hospital. I knew the smell.At some point, something slid into my arm. A tube. IV fluid dripping, seeping into my bloodstream.Cold trickled in. I shivered in relief.There were voices again. One of them soft, tight with worry.Yvaine? Maybe. I couldn’t hold onto it long enough to be sure.Then sleep again. Real this time. Deep. Still.My body sank, just for a moment.But peace didn’t last.Something inside me stirred.A flicker at first.Then a steady burn, crawling

I woke up with my face pressed against something warm and solid.Took a second to realise it was skin.Male skin. Tanned, smooth, faintly salty. Rising and falling in a steady, hypnotic rhythm.My fingers were digging into someone’s abs.And not soft ones.The room was dim—early grey morning kind of dim—but not dim enough to miss the fact that I was clinging to Ashton like a koala, and he was bare-chested.I blinked hard. Stayed still for one beat, then another, waiting for my sluggish brain to boot up.Last night was a blur. I remembered the fever, the IV drip, the ice packs. Ashton getting into bed with me. Then leaving.More than once, apparently.Beyond that? Blank.My hospital gown was still on, but thin enough to feel the heat radiating off him.And my hand—God—was still resting on his stomach.I yanked it back. Stopped halfway.Peeked at his face. His eyes were closed.Slowly, sneakily, like a thief, I laid my hand back down.The feel of him was ridiculous.I’d taken boxing cla

Rhys Granger was walking ahead of me, head down, flipping through a stack of paper that had the hospital’s logo on it.He had his back to me, but I’d have recognised that lanky frame and slightly hunched shoulders anywhere.Right next to him was Catherine.She sounded chipper. ‘I told you. It’s positive, right? I’m definitely pregnant! The doctor confirmed it.’I glanced at the signpost near the stairwell door. This was the obstetrics and gynaecology floor.My feet carried me forward before I’d even decided to follow; I smelled drama.The hallway wasn’t crowded, but it was busy enough that I could blend in, trailing after them without being noticed.Catherine sounded thrilled. Rhys didn’t.He kept turning the pages like he either didn’t understand the medical jargon or didn’t want to. ‘How the hell did this happen? I used protection every time!’A few heads turned at that—most people on this floor were all happy tears and heartbeat scans. Rhys was clearly not on-brand.Catherine notic