Chapter 292
His breath was warm against her ear, the low timbre of his voice sending electric currents through her veins.
Evelyn shivered, her pulse quickening at the sensation.
Why does Alexander, even wounded, still have this effect on me?
Her heart stuttered, fluttering like a trapped bird in her chest.
"I—I don't know how to dress wounds," Evelyn admitted, her wide doe eyes flickering with uncertainty.
That vulnerable look was his undoing. Alexander caught her wrist, guiding her toward the ensuite. "Then I'll teach you."
His fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, but after the second one, his strength faltered.
He pressed her palm flat against the hard planes of his chest, his gaze softening with an uncharacteristic plea. "Help me."
Seeing the indomitable Alexander Whitmore—the man who commanded boardrooms with a glance—struggle with something as simple as undressing made her throat tighten.
"Don't," he murmured, catching the sheen in her eyes before a tear could fall.
The raw emotion in his voice made her breath hitch.
His heart pounded as he pulled Evelyn into a crushing embrace.
The tenderness in her touch was something he cherished deeply.
If Alexander had known his confession would bring tears to her eyes, he would have swallowed those words whole.
"When I was critically wounded before, you saved me," he murmured. "This is just a scratch compared to that."
Her voice trembled. "But back then, you were just a stranger. If you had died, it would have been tragic, but I wouldn't have lost you. Now you're my husband. It's not the same."
Her reasoning was sound, yet each word cut deeper than any blade.
Evelyn rushed to grab the first aid kit, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of Alexander's bloodstained shirt.
When the wound came into view, she sucked in a sharp breath.
A deep gash marred his lower back, clearly from something razor-sharp. She couldn't even tell how far it went.
Her teeth sank into her lower lip as her hands shook.
"Alexander, please—let's just go to the hospital."
His voice was steady. "You're trained in medical acupuncture, aren't you? You can handle this. I trust you."
"But..."
"Open the medical kit and see what's inside."
Evelyn swallowed hard, blinking back tears as she obeyed.
Her breath caught when she spotted the gleaming acupuncture needles.
Alexander carefully arranged them in a neat row before meeting her gaze with unwavering confidence.
"You saved me with these ten years ago," he reminded her, voice steady despite the pain. "I don't know why you stopped practicing, but let me be your patient today."
He gave her a small, encouraging smile. "First, stop the bleeding. You can do this, Evelyn. I believe in you."
She shook her head violently, hands trembling.
"A child died under my care years ago, Alexander. I can't—I'll only make it worse! We need to get you to a hospital!"
Understanding flickered in his eyes.
So that was why she hesitated.
"That was an accident," he insisted firmly. "Remember how skilled you were at sixteen? You saved me without hesitation. Trust yourself now like you did then."
Evelyn bit down on her lip hard enough to taste blood, her wide, fearful eyes locked onto his.
The needles glinted between them—a silent challenge. A second chance.
Her fingers twitched.
Alexander held his breath.
The realization struck Evelyn like lightning.
Alexander wasn't just testing her skills—he was pushing her to face her deepest fears. To step out of the darkness that had held her captive for so long.
Her hands trembled slightly around the acupuncture needles.
But then she remembered.
Ten years ago, she had saved him.
She had stopped the bleeding when no one else could. When death had been seconds away from claiming him.
If she could do that then, she could do this now.
Her grip steadied.
She inhaled deeply, the scent of antiseptic sharp in her lungs.
This wound was nothing compared to what he had survived before.
She could do this.
She would do this.
The first needle glinted under the harsh clinic lights as she positioned it.
Her hands didn’t shake anymore.