?Chapter 21:


    From her shoulder bag, Elliana carefully drew out a small object and extended her open hand toward Cole. “I brought this for you.” Resting in her palm was a delicate sachet, its simple cloth stitched by hand and decorated with tiny, ornate flowers—elegant despite its modest material.


    Cole took it gently and lifted it to his nose. A light blend of flowers and herbs drifted up, subtle yet soothing. “You made this?”


    “I did.”


    “So, what’s the n here?” he asked with a teasing glint. “You want me to carry it around and miss you every second I smell it?”


    Elliana gave him a small pout, clearly exasperated but still soft-spoken. “It’s meant to help with allergies. If you keep it on you, the pet fur won’t bother you. You let me keep my cat—I figured it’s the least I could do to make sure you’re not suffering for it.”


    Without a word, Cole gave a small nod and slipped the sachet into the inner pocket of his suit.


    Cradling her cat, Elliana turned away and made her way toward the bedroom.


    Cole trailed behind, eyes on her as she gently set the cat down on the sofa. “I’m heading out on a business trip tonight,” he said quietly. “Not sure when I’ll be back, so if anything gets too much, just call me.”


    “Where to?” she asked, not turning around.


    “Vand,” he answered. “I’m meeting with Dr. Milena Atkinson.”


    Wait—he was going to see her? Elliana had just reached to scratch behind her cat’s ear when the name stopped her cold. Her gaze lifted to the tall man by the door. “Is it for someone close to you?”


    The trace of a smile tugging at Cole’s lips faltered, just for a second. “Two years ago, Jeff pulled a reckless stunt that ended with the Henderson family’s third daughter plummeting from the second floor. The injury damaged her spine—she’s been unable to stand since. Things have only gotten worse, and now her life’s hanging in the bnce. We brought in every top specialist we could find, but none could fix what was broken. Our families used to be close, but that ident drove a wedge between us. If she dies, there’s no repairing what’s left. Right now, everything depends on Dr. Atkinson.” Pausing, he added, “I spent a long time trying to locate Dr. Atkinson, but this elusive healer was a master at keeping the location secret, and no one had a clue what Dr. Atkinson even looked like. Tracking…”


    The towel, already short, barely skimmed her thighs when worn properly. Pulling it upward to hide her face only left more of her bare skin exposed, unintentionally revealing more than it concealed.


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    Cole hadn’t been prepared for what he walked into—his steps faltered, and for a moment, he just stood there, stunned. She stood barefoot on the velvet rug, her legs drawn subtly together, the curve of her waist hinted at through strands of wet hair. That towel, shorter than any mini-skirt, clung to her like it didn’t want to stay in ce.


    Without theyers of garish makeup, herplexion was wless—smooth, luminous, untouched. Even with half her face hidden beneath her palm, the curve of her brows, the rity in her wide eyes, and the soft skin of her forehead were enough to steal someone’s breath. It was the kind of vision that could make any man forget his next thought.


    Cole couldn’t look away. His pulse surged, unsteady and fast, betraying the calm exterior he tried to maintain.


    Their eyes locked—just for a moment—and then, without a word, Cole started moving toward her.


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