Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 294

Chapter 294

Finally, with a determined shove, she flung herself and the door into the cabin, leaving the raging storm outside.

Shivering from the cold, she quickly switched on the heater and sniffled.

Her phone still had no signal, leaving her stranded and unable to reach anyone. She had no clue when the storm

would blow over, but it couldn't last more than a week, right?

With nothing else to do, she decided to change out of her wet clothes. Luckily, the closet had sextra linens,

and the bed was neatly made with fresh blankets. She sneezed, hunching her shoulders against the chill.

Peeling off her soaked clothes, she took a hot shower, which warmed her up a bit. Then, she lay down, listening

to the storm's fury outside, planning to sleep and figure things out later.

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Suddenly, her phone rang. Did she finally have a signal? She grabbed it quickly. It was Aiden calling, but the

signal was patchy.

She only caught, "The CEO cto the island to find you."

Clara thought she must have misheard and quickly asked, "Aiden, are you kidding? In this weather, you let Mr.

Dylan cout here alone? His leg's still healing!"

But the connection was choppy again, and she couldn't make out anything else. Clara took a deep breath,

touched by Dylan's gesture but worried sick about him.

The island felt like a scene from a disaster movie, with debris swirling in the wind. Getting hit could be

disastrous. There was no way she could sleep now. She hurriedly put her wet clothes back on and braved the

storm again.

The rain pounded her face harder, like tiny needles. She struggled forward, clinging to trees to keep from being

swept away.

After just a few hundred meters, she spotted a silhouette. Was it her imagination, or did the figure glance at her

before collapsing?

"Mr. Dylan!" she called out, wanting to rush over, but the wind was so fierce she could barely keep her eyes

open. It took her a grueling ten minutes to reach him.

"Mr. Dylan!" she repeated, finding him lying on the ground, drenched and pale. Kneeling beside him, she gently

tapped his face. "Dylan!"

Slowly, Dylan opened his eyes, sat up, and pulled her into a tight hug. Despite the chaos around them, the

embrace was pure, and Clara let out a sigh of relief, not pulling away.

"There's a cottage up ahead," she said. "I mentioned it to the locals earlier. Let's get you there." Dylan didn't say

a word, just held out his hand, clearly needing help.

Clara wanted to smile but couldn't quite muster it. She quickly helped him to his feet. Leaning on each other,

they headed toward the nearby cottage.

She was surprised; Dylan had been heading the right way. Had he overheard her chatting with the locals?

The cottage wasn't far. Once they were inside, she struggled to shut the door against the gusting wind. Dylan

was tall, with long legs, and Clara worried about his injured leg. As soon as the door was closed, she knelt beside

him.

"Does your leg hurt? Where's your wheelchair?”

"It's gone," he replied.