Love Drug (Summer and Fraser) novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Fraser Graham, My Antidote

The man before her was Fraser Graham—heir to the Graham Group.

If the Larson Group, led by Trevor, was among Havenbrook’s top three financial conglomerates, then the Graham Group was undoubtedly number one. Starting as a banking empire, it had rapidly expanded its investments into real estate, technology, communications, and funds. More than half of Havenbrook’s industries had the Graham family’s mark on them.

Behind closed doors, everyone called him Prince Fraser.

Summer had met him once before. It was for a project the Stewart family had been competing for, under the Graham Group’s bidding process. She had been one of the project leads.

Now, in her barely conscious state, she no longer cared about appearances. Using the last bit of her strength, she reached out and grasped the fabric of his tailored trousers.

“Fraser… please… help me.”

Fraser’s gaze darkened when he saw who it was.

Her blue-and-white dress was torn and filthy, revealing a pair of pale, slender legs. Her delicate feet had been cut, blood staining her soft skin. And when he noticed the unnatural flush on her face, his frown deepened.

Without a word, he bent down and scooped her into his arms.

A faint scent of cool pine enveloped Summer, making her feel both cold and safe.

Fraser placed her in the passenger seat and shut the door.

Then, leaning lazily against the car, he slowly rolled up his sleeves and unfastened his watch—a limited-edition piece worth millions.

Glancing at the three burly kidnappers who had chased after her, he asked, “Did you drug her?”

His voice was low, calm—but chilling to the bone.

…

Ten minutes later, Fraser slid into the driver’s seat. His black dress shirt, now stained with blood, was stripped off and tossed out the window.

Under the dim light, his lean, muscular torso was fully exposed—each ridge of his abs distinct, the smooth lines tapering down to a narrow waist, disappearing beneath his black dress pants.

In the passenger seat, Summer had her eyes shut, her forehead damp with sweat. Her lips were slightly parted, teeth sinking into the soft flesh.

He studied her for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, pulling out his phone, he made a call.

“In half an hour, come to the Westhaven villa. Bring medicine.”

On the other end of the line was Xavier Hathaway—Havenbrook’s top private hospital director and Fraser’s longtime friend.

Hearing the demand, Xavier groaned in frustration.

“My dear Mr. Graham, even if I were a street racer, the drive from Havenbrook to Westhaven takes at least two hours! What do you expect me to do, pull out Doraemon’s magic door?”

Fraser’s lips curled into a lazy smirk. “Isn’t that what your private jet is for?”

Xavier was stunned. Who the hell is important enough for Fraser to summon me with a plane?

I'm like those doctors in movies—the ones who serve the most mysterious and wealthy men. You know, always at their service, ready for anything.

Fraser hung up without another word.

Gripping the steering wheel, he turned the car around. The Porsche sped down the empty road like a flash of lightning.

Soon, they arrived at a luxurious white villa by the sea.

Just as Fraser put the car in park, something soft and sweet suddenly pressed against him.

Summer, her eyes hazy with desire, felt like she was being consumed by waves of heat.

She was burning up. The thin strap of her dress had slipped off her shoulder, revealing the smooth, round curve beneath. Without hesitation, she climbed over the center console and straddled him, her slender fingers roaming across his bare chest.

In the confined space of the Porsche, the air grew thick with tension.

Fraser’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He caught her by the waist with one hand, his other gripping her delicate chin.

He forced her to meet his dark, smoldering eyes. His voice was husky, almost a growl. “Summer, do you even know who I am?”

Summer’s mind was muddled, but a shadow of recognition lingered.

She laughed—a slow, sultry smile, the corners of her eyes tilting up in a way that was irresistibly seductive.

She was like a ripe, juicy peach, begging to be tasted.