His Plaything Became the Heiress He Can't Touch

Half of Edward's face was hidden in shadow, a craving lurking there that words couldn't quite capture. His thumb traced slowly from Carol's cheek down to her earlobe, voice laced with teasing. That lazy smile on his lips didn't hide the chill behind it. Carol looked at him, a flicker of fear stirring in her chest. Her face went pale, and she bit her lip. "Don't..." The windows were shut tight, air thick and heavy. The space was small, and the leftover traces of their closeness clung to everything. Edward slid an arm around her from behind. He wiped away the thin layer of sweat on her face with cold fingers, then paused at the corner of her eye where tears clung. She felt like she was going to lose it. Edward dipped his head, and it was as if he'd swallowed her tears, the soft laugh in his throat carrying that dangerous edge. "You know," he murmured, "you look really damn beautiful right now. What do you think Christopher would say if he saw you like this?" A mist of tears still clouded Carol's eyes-left over from what he'd just put her through. Her red-rimmed eyes, her expression-it was like something from a painting, seductive and tragically stunning. She tensed, panic flaring in her chest as she looked up at Edward. "What are you trying to do?" "Nothing," he said casually. She didn't buy it. Her voice soft, almost a whisper. "It was just a misunderstanding." He smirked, scooping her collapsed body up with one arm, eyes gleaming with mischief. "A misunderstanding, huh? Then don't think about him anymore." Carol blinked. She hadn't even been thinking about Christopher. But it was like Edward had read her mind. He pressed a kiss on her bare shoulder, slow and deliberate. "I don't mean right now. I mean from this second on, just forget him. Got it?" With the air in the car so thin, Carol didn't answer fast enough. He pinched her waist, not hard, but enough of a warning. "Answer me. Did you hear me?" Her body jerked at the sudden motion, suspended for a second before dropping back down. Her face went even paler. "Got it." Satisfied, Edward pulled her tighter into his arms, chuckling softly. "You said it yourself. So if one day I find you're still tangled up with him..." He didn't finish the sentence, but that silence hit harder than any threat. Carol's breath caught. Her spine turned cold. Edward's smile could be scarier than his anger. The way he lounged lazily, all ease and charm, only made the pressure in the air more suffocating. Back at the riverside estate, Carol was barely standing. Edward cleaned her up before heading into the bathroom. The light in there was blinding. Steam fogged up everything, and beads of water slowly ran down the mirrored surface, splitting up his sharp reflection. He was standing in front of the mirror, still holding that photo of Carol with Christopher. Droplets dripped from his wet hair, sliding down the curve of his neck and past his sharply defined Adam's apple.No one knew how long he'd been standing there until he suddenly tore those photos apart and flung the shredded pieces into the air. They fluttered down, scattered all over the floor - Carol and Christopher's picture-perfect moment now in ruins. The image stayed frozen for a beat, fog still swirling in the air, before Edward finally stepped out from the shadows. Carol was curled up under the blanket in a silky sleepwear, looking fragile. Her hair was spread out over the pillow, slightly damp. From above, Edward stared down at her - her brows were gently furrowed like her sleep wasn't restful. One of his fingers brushed the side of her neck, right over the mark he'd left there on purpose. Her face was flushed more than normal, her breathing heavy and uneven. Frowning, Edward reached out to feel her forehead. The moment his hand touched her, he jerked it back. Burning hot. He immediately pulled out his phone and called, "Nathaniel, get Brandon here, right now." Nathaniel had worked with Edward for years. He read between the lines with ease and wasted no time bringing Brandon straight over to the property. Brandon always showed up in a crisp suit, carrying a professional vibe. Though technically employed by the Dawson family, everyone knew he was really Edward's personal physician. "She's burning up," Edward said tersely. "Check her out." In the room, it was just them - three men and a burning-up Carol on the bed. Edward stood by her side, lean and tall, with just a loosely tied towel around his waist that looked ready to fall at any second. Brandon set down his medical bag, giving Edward's bare torso a once-over. "Seriously, Edward? Maybe a shirt next time?" The implication hung heavy in the air. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had just gone down. Edward casually dropped his eyes to himself - firm chest and defined abs, towel barely hanging on - and smirked, hands on his hips like a challenge. "Jealous much?" Brandon checked Carol's temperature. "She's at 102. That's pretty damn high." Obvious cause: intense activity, then catching a chill. Edward's gaze darkened. "Get an IV going. Cool her fever down." Brandon sighed like he'd heard this one too many times. "Edward, buddy, we gotta talk. Can you stop dragging me out here for every random fever? I'm a doctor, not your personal nurse. You've got people on payroll who can handle a drip." Edward raised an eyebrow, unconcerned. "What, you don't know how to do it?" "..." That taunt worked a little too well. Brandon bit back a retort and grabbed Carol's hand to start the IV. Just as he held the needle over her hand, the sharp tip hovering right above the vein- Edward suddenly questioned him. "Brandon, you sure you know what you're doing? If you don't, I can call someone else." Startled, Brandon almost jabbed the wrong spot. "Of course I know what I'm doing!" He huffed, picking up the syringe again with a steadier grip, when Edward spoke up - dead serious this time. "Go easy." Brandon Lucas shot Edward an unimpressed look, silently thinking, "Now you decide to feel guilty? If it weren't for you, Carol wouldn't be like this." Edward called for Mary Anderson to take care of Carol. The IV dripped slowly. Carol stirred once halfway through, eyes hazy as she looked around. No sign of Edward, only Mary sitting quietly nearby. Her lips were dry and cracked. She felt groggy all over. "What... happened to me?" Mary hurried to hand her a glass of water. "Miss Bright, you've got a fever. Mr. Dawson asked me to look after you." Carol pushed the glass aside, her voice a little hoarse. "Where is he?" Mary hesitated. "I heard from Mr. Carter that... Mr. Dawson went to Royal Club." Everyone knew about Edward's reputation - charming but unreliable. Seeing Carol's expression fall, Mary quickly added, "Miss Bright, maybe he had something urgent to handle." There was barely any change in Carol's face, but her hand clenched the neatly made blanket until it wrinkled beneath her fingers. "What urgent matter could he possibly have there? Don't try to make me feel better, Mary. I understand exactly what kind of person he is." Mary looked awkward but chose not to say more. This wasn't something she could step into. It was nearly four in the morning when Edward finally came home. Carol hadn't slept at all. As soon as she heard the door, she shut her eyes. The strong scent of alcohol mixed with perfume hit instantly - no doubt he'd just come from some woman's place. Her fists tightened under the blanket, and her lashes trembled, betraying her despite herself. "I know you're awake." Since Edward called her out, she didn't bother pretending anymore. He reached out to feel her forehead, but Carol instinctively turned away. Edward just laughed lazily. "Still mad?" "No." Her answer was sharp and definite. Propping himself up, Edward casually loosened his tie, voice flat. "You're sick. Rest today. Don't bother going to the office." "Then don't go either. Stay here with me." The words slipped out before she could stop them. Maybe it was the fever, or maybe just that heavy loneliness that sickness amplifies. She rarely let her guard down like this. Even Edward was caught off guard for a second. Then he gave a snort of laughter, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Alright. I'll stay." He took off his jacket and was about to climb into bed when his phone rang. Carol caught a glimpse of the caller ID - Jessica. Edward glanced at her, then still walked off to take the call. Carol stared at him, couldn't make out what he was saying, but the hallway light lit up the shadow on his face. He looked tense. "There's something I need to deal with over at Jessica's." Carol felt like she'd swallowed something bitter. "What is it that can't wait till morning?" Edward didn't respond. She pressed on, desperate. "You're still going? But you just said... you'd stay here with me."