Chapter 372

Theodore stepped aside with visible reluctance. "Ms. Carter said you may enter." His posture remained rigid, as though proximity to Nathan might contaminate him.

N?velDrama.Org owns ? this.

"Appreciate it."

Theodore's scowl deepened, his resentment undisguised. "Don't thank me. Ms. Carter's being generous. Were it up to me..." His fingers flexed into fists. "You'd be leaving in an ambulance."

He shoved open the kitchen door with unnecessary force before stalking away.

Nathan exhaled slowly, steeling himself before crossing the threshold.

Monarch Grand Hotel's kitchen gleamed like a surgical suite - all sterile stainless steel and immaculate white surfaces. The only sounds were his own ragged breathing and the pounding of his pulse.

Rounding a corner, he spotted the slender figure working behind a towering steel counter. The massive workstation dwarfed her petite frame.

Evelyn Carter stole his breath yet again.

Clad in spotless chef's whites with her hair secured beneath a cap and face masked, she meticulously sculpted dough with surgical precision using silver shears. So engrossed in her craft, she remained oblivious to his presence.

Nathan's vision blurred as Agnes Thornton's words echoed in his mind:

"Mr. Blackwood, that dessert wasn't purchased or made by our chef. Young Madam prepared it specially for you. The head chef claims her skills surpass his own. You enjoyed every bite without realizing the effort poured into that small creation. She locked herself in the kitchen all day, never once complaining about her aching joints."

A tidal wave of remorse crashed over him.

This marked his first time witnessing Evelyn in her culinary element. These were the hidden hours of her three years as a Blackwood.

She'd infused every dish with devotion - her passion, her exhaustion, her unreciprocated love - while he'd dismissed each offering without gratitude.

What a fool he'd been, systematically destroying every shred of affection she'd ever held for him.

Evelyn's brow furrowed in concentration as she shaped the delicate pastry destined for Isabella Laurent to deliver to her mother. The intricate dessert had consumed her entire afternoon - four painstaking hours yielding just four completed pieces.

"Finally!" She exhaled in relief, admiring her fifth creation. Lifting an arm, she dabbed at her damp forehead with her sleeve.

The sudden crunching sound made her freeze.

Evelyn's head snapped up.

Her gasp sliced through the kitchen as wide eyes locked onto the intruder. "Nathan! What the hell—"

He maintained eye contact while deliberately taking another bite.

Only three pastries remained on the tray.

"Spit that out right now!" Crimson fury stained Evelyn's cheeks, her fists clenching with the urge to strike him. "You have no right!"

Nathan chewed slowly, savoring the flavors. "Exquisite."

"You bastard! That's not for you!"

Seeing red, Evelyn lunged for the half-eaten pastry.

Nathan hastily shoved the remainder into his mouth.

"Damn you, Nathan Blackwood!"

Her scream echoed off stainless steel. In her rage, she failed to notice the freshly mopped floor. Her feet slid out from under her, sending her crashing against his solid chest.

Thud!

Nathan's back slammed into the counter, pain flashing across his features. Instinctively, his arms encircled Evelyn to break her fall.

As his grip tightened, her breathing grew erratic.

Time suspended around them.

Through the thin barrier of her surgical mask, the softness of Evelyn's lips met his in accidental contact.

Both froze.

Nathan's eyelids grew heavy, lashes fluttering shut. Despite every ounce of self-control, heat pooled low in his abdomen, his body betraying his better judgment.