Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run
Chapter 115

Dylan stayed quiet, letting her frantically clean. Once she was sure everything was spotless and realized he wasn't upset, she breathed a sigh of relief. She gently released his hand, speaking softly, "Mr. Dylan, are you feeling better now?"

He glanced down at his wrist, still warm from her touch. Her fingers were long and delicate, like vines, and the warmth seemed to seep into his skin. Clara asked again, "Mr. Dylan, do you feel better after taking the medicine?"

He finally looked up and gave a slight nod, acknowledging her concern, while lightly shaking the wrist she had held. Clara quickly let go, and promptly apologized, "I'm sorry, I was just too worried. I'm glad you're okay."

Silence filled the back seat. Clara couldn't quite tell if he was upset. She sat up straight and fastened her seatbelt. Dylan looked out the window, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips before fading away.

The car pulled up in Palm Bay, and Jackson jumped out, opening the back door. He intended to help Dylan out but found him asleep, his head resting on Clara's shoulder. Jackson had driven with unusual caution, taking a full forty minutes to get there.

Clara had also dozed off, leaning against the window instead of Dylan. Dylan was sound asleep. His head was nestled on her shoulder.

When the door opened, Clara stirred and was about to speak, but Jackson quickly gestured for silence. His tone was softer now; he was not nitpicking at her like before.

"Let him sleep a bit longer. He's been dealing with insomnia for a while."

Insomnia? No wonder his eyes were bloodshot as if he hadn't rested properly in days. Clara immediately froze, catching glimpses of his hair and long eyelashes out of the corner of her eye. It was hard to imagine the formidable Dylan sleeping so peacefully.

Feeling a bit anxious, her shoulder shifted slightly, prompting Jackson's whispered warning, "If you wake him, I'll make sure you regret it."

Clara swallowed hard, realizing he wasn't joking. She quickly closed her eyes, willing her heartbeat to slow down.

She didn't know how much time

know

passed before the calm atmosphere lulled her back to sleep. When she awoke, the sound of pages turning reached her ears. She was no longer in the car but inside Palm Bay.

She found herself on a plush sofa in the grand hall Clara jolted awake, looking around, only to be met with Jackson teasing, "Are you a sloth? You slept for hours!" She checked her phone, saw it was already nine in the evening and felt a wave of embarrassment.

Ignoring Jackson, she turned her attention to Dylan. After his nap, he seemed more refreshed. "Mr. Dylan, Jackson told me that you've been having trouble sleeping. Have you tried herbal remedies?"

Maybe herbal treatments could help, and they might be a safer option. Dylan paused, "I haven't tried that."

"Well, I could replace an herbalist for you one of these days. It might be worth a shot."

She wasn't trying to win Dylan over; she just wanted to make amends. Earlier, she had mistakenly thought he was taking her to a cemetery to confront her, only to realize she had misjudged him. Dylan raised an eyebrow slightly, lips pressed

together. "Alright."

Clara stood, her demeanor respectful. "If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave now."

Just as she turned to go, Jackson called out, "Why are you leaving? If he can sleep with you around, you might as well stick around as his personal sleep aid."