Chapter 46
“I’m just an ordinary woman,” Isabella murmured, her tone deliberately casual, as if discussing the weather rather than confessing to poisoning someone.
Alexander, despite the venom coursing through his veins, remained eerily composed. His lack of rage or threats only intrigued her further.
His voice was steady, matching the weight of their predicament. “We’re both intelligent people. Let’s just pretend none of this ever happened.”
Rain pattered against the foliage outside, a rhythmic lullaby that did nothing to soothe the tension between them. The air had grown thick with dampness, clinging to their skin like an unwelcome embrace.
Shivering, Isabella tugged her jacket tighter around herself and moved closer to the dwindling fire. Alexander, still in his damp clothes, felt the chill seep into his bones—along with the memory of their heated encounter the night before. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Of course,” he muttered, his voice rough with irritation. “I’ll act like nothing happened.”
He had expected her to bring it up—to demand answers, to throw accusations. But her indifference was infuriating. Had she even noticed the money he’d left?
Before he could voice his frustration, he realized she had already succumbed to exhaustion, her body slumped against the rough cave wall.
Sleep eluded him. The cold gnawed at him, or perhaps it was the adrenaline still humming beneath his skin. His dreams were fractured—flashes of a past he’d rather forget, of running, of blood, of narrow escapes.
Isabella stirred, unconsciously curling into the warmth beside her. The familiar presence eased the tension in her limbs, and she sighed, sinking deeper into sleep.
Dawn crept in with soft golden fingers, coaxing her awake. Blinking groggily, she took in their surroundings—the cave, the remnants of the fire, the jacket that had slipped from her shoulders.
Alexander’s jacket.
Her gaze flickered to the mouth of the cave, where he sat, his broad frame shielding her from the wind. Confusion twisted inside her.
The rain had stopped. She stood quietly, intending to call for help—until she saw the flush on his face.
“You’re burning up,” she said, reaching out to shake him awake.
Alexander groaned, his skin fever-hot beneath her touch. His eyes cracked open, revealing reddened whites.
“Probably,” he rasped.
Infection. The thought sent a spike of alarm through her. She needed water—something to cool him down.
But before she could move, a voice echoed through the trees.
“There! The cave! I see her!”
Benjamin.
Despite his age, he moved with surprising agility, nearly stumbling over the undergrowth in his haste. When his eyes landed on them—alive, if not unscathed—his relief was palpable.
“Thank God you’re alive!” His voice trembled. “When you didn’t return last night, I sent out search parties. All we found was blood!”
His anger flared as he continued. “The police caught one of the bastards, but the other got away. Who attacks innocent people like this?”
Isabella stayed silent, unwilling to add to his distress. Noticing him discreetly wiping his eyes, she quickly changed the subject.
“I’m sorry. I lost all the bamboo shoots you worked so hard to dry.”
Alexander cut in, his tone firm. “It’s my fault. I dragged her into this. I’ll make it right—”
“Forget it, boy!” Benjamin snapped, pulling them both into a crushing embrace. His voice cracked. “Forget the damn bamboo shoots. I’m just glad you’re alive.”
