After a while, Summer Thorne finally lifted her gaze slightly and asked, "Aren't you going to dry off?"
After a long moment, she finally heard Timothy York's slightly hoarse voice. "I'd like to take a bath."
She quickly snapped back to reality. Now that he'd responded, even her tone seemed to lighten. "I'll run a hot bath for you. Soaking for a bit will make you feel better."
Timothy York did not refuse.
Summer Thorne quickly went into the bathroom and ran a hot bath. When she came out, Timothy York was standing at the foot of the bed, drinking a glass of water.
He had already taken off his soaked pajama top. He was shirtless, and a pair of long, black pajama pants clung to his long legs and lean, narrow waist.
Summer Thorne walked right up to him and felt the glass he was holding.
Cold.
"You shouldn't be drinking cold water. Go on and get in the bath. I'll go downstairs and get some hot water for you to drink."
With that, she guided Timothy York into the bathroom. After pulling the door closed, she turned and headed downstairs.
The boisterous crowd from before had dispersed. Only two young women were left in the lobby, chatting on a sofa. When they saw Summer Thorne come downstairs, their gazes lingered on her, their eyes full of probing curiosity.
Summer Thorne simply smiled at them, filled a thermos with hot water, and turned to head back upstairs.
She failed to notice, however, that as she went up, a figure was walking in through the main entrance. His gaze fell upon her, and he followed her up the stairs.
Summer Thorne returned to Timothy York's room. She swiped the keycard again and was about to close the door when a tall, imposing male figure suddenly appeared in the doorway.
Summer Thorne's heart jolted, and she nearly dropped the thermos of hot water.
'How could he be here?'
Mason Crawford, who had appeared as if out of nowhere, stared at her darkly. "Having fun, are we? Running all the way out here."
Summer Thorne's mind went blank for a second, then she suddenly remembered the commotion outside the entrance just before she came upstairs.
'Was that Mason Crawford arriving back then?'
'So he must have followed me here thinking this is my room... he doesn't have any other ideas, right?'
Summer Thorne remained silent for two seconds, then slammed the door shut with a loud BANG.
Outside, Mason Crawford stood stunned for a few seconds before he began to pound furiously on the door.
"Summer Thorne, open this door!"
Meanwhile, Summer Thorne had already hurried to the bathroom and pushed the door open—
In the tub, the tall, slender man was lying in the hot water with his eyes closed. He slowly opened them at the sound, revealing dark, deep-set eyes that held a languid, cool gaze.
Summer Thorne set the thermos down beside the tub. With no time for anything else, she simply instructed him, "There's a bit of trouble. Just keep soaking for a while, and don't make a sound."
At the same time, the sound of Mason Crawford pounding on the door outside carried into the bathroom.
Timothy York's gaze instantly hardened.
But Summer Thorne didn't linger. She turned, left the bathroom, and once again pulled the door closed behind her.
In the room, Summer Thorne glanced around the bedroom.
All the rooms at the resort had a similar layout. This one, aside from the indentation on the bed where Timothy York had just been lying, was so tidy it looked unoccupied.
His clothes, shoes, and socks were all arranged neatly in the closet. Even the pajamas he had just taken off hadn't been tossed aside carelessly.
Summer Thorne breathed a sigh of relief. She closed the closet door, walked to the entrance, and opened it again.
Meeting Mason Crawford's gaze again, Summer Thorne figured that if she'd waited another ten seconds, he probably would have kicked the door in.
"You're being very loud," Summer Thorne said, looking at him as if she'd only opened the door because she couldn't stand the noise. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Crawford?"
Mason Crawford looked at her coldly. "Where is Serena?"
Hearing Mason Crawford's question, Summer Thorne actually breathed a sigh of relief.
'So he's here for Serena Garrison.'
"Oh? Has Miss Serena Garrison gone missing?" Summer Thorne asked.
Mason Crawford's gaze was chilling. He took a step forward, forcing Summer Thorne back into the room.
Summer Thorne met his gaze, her own unwavering.
"She took a call from Valois right before she disappeared. Who else could it have been but you?" Mason Crawford snarled, his teeth clenched. "Summer Thorne, how dare you?"
Summer Thorne asked, "What makes you think it was me? Just because a call came from Valois, it had to be me?"
"If it wasn't you, who else could it have been?"
"Why don't you ask yourself?" Summer Thorne said. "You have so many other women. Why couldn't it have been one of them?"
"Who are you trying to fool?" Mason Crawford snarled, grabbing her wrist. "You think I don't know what kind of person you are? Is there anything in this world you wouldn't do? Running out to the middle of nowhere, this whole act about being pranked and left in the snow... kicking up such a fuss just to get a man's attention, right? Caleb Anson, Leo Lang, or Gale Fawley? Who's your target? Or will any of them do? You really think any of them would actually be interested in you?"
Summer Thorne was quiet for a moment before saying slowly, "Did you come all this way for Miss Serena Garrison, or just to insult me?"
Mason Crawford's voice was sharp and severe. "I'll ask you one more time. What did you say to Serena? Where did she go?"
Summer Thorne knew Mason Crawford wouldn't believe anything she said right now. They couldn't continue this conversation.
'At least, not in this room.'
"Let me go," Summer Thorne said calmly. "Let me pack my things. We can talk when we get back to the city."
"You dare make demands of me?" Mason Crawford looked as if he was about to strike her again.
Summer Thorne took a sharp step back, her gaze heavy. "Do you have a choice?"
Mason Crawford's fists clenched so tightly his knuckles went white. He stared at her, breathing heavily.
To the outside world, he was always the aloof, arrogant, and composed Mr. Crawford. But in front of her, he always let his true colors show so easily.
'I should really praise myself for being so talented,' Summer Thorne thought wryly.
She wrenched her arm free from his grasp. Seeing that he had no intention of leaving, she paused for a second, then turned and walked into the bathroom.
Just as she'd asked, Timothy York was still lying quietly in the tub, silently watching her enter and close the door.
The first thing Summer Thorne did was turn on the shower and the sink faucet, only then did she approach the tub.
"I have to leave now," Summer Thorne said in a low voice, using the running water to mask her words. "The water's still hot, so soak a little longer, but not for too long or it'll drain your strength. If your fever still hasn't broken in a bit, you should go back to the city and get to a hospital. Don't let it get any worse."
After saying this, Summer Thorne looked up at him one more time, pursed her lips, and prepared to stand and leave.
But in the next instant, something wet and warm closed around her wrist—
Timothy York had reached out and grabbed her.
She turned back to meet Timothy York's dark, somber eyes.
"This is my room. My bathroom. And yet you're hiding me in it." His voice was mild, but it held an undercurrent of pressure. "What do you take me for?"
Without a second thought, Summer Thorne smiled. "You're a respectable gentleman with a clean record. You have a bright future ahead of you. Your good name can't be ruined by a woman like me. It doesn't matter what happens to me, but it can't happen to you."
With that said, she tried to stand up again.
But Timothy York's grip on her wrist didn't loosen.
"Mr. York?"
Summer Thorne looked up, meeting Timothy York's deep, unblinking gaze.
The next moment, warm lips pressed against hers.
In the bathroom, separated from Mason Crawford by a single door.
He was kissing her.