Billionaire's Match (by Tangy Candy) novel Chapter 73

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Chapter 73

She was enduring this much pain, and still insisted on working past midnight?

“I’m… sorry for troubling you…”

Khloe pressed herself against his chest, her breath shallow and weak. She had no strength left, but for some reason, being held by Nick-his body warm and steady-made the pain feel less unbearable.

“You don’t need to apologize to me.”

“… But… you… you’re the only one… I could reach…” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, almost lost in the downpour outside.

Yet every word cut straight through him, leaving a bitter twist in his chest. He regretted letting his earlier tone be too sharp.

“Yes. You can always call me.” He said it softly this time.

The rain hammered the city as he rushed, without an umbrella, sheltering her with his coat, and carried her safely into the car. He himself was soaked through, but she-finally succumbing to exhaustion-fell asleep in the passenger seat.

Nick watched her tense face, took a deep breath, and draped a blanket over her before calling the household staff. He instructed them to prepare hot water, painkillers, and ready her room.

She had said she wanted to go home, even giving an address, but there was no way he could let her face this alone.

Back at his estate, he carried her straight to the bedroom. The staff had everything prepared, helping her change and freshen up, while he waited outside, pacing, until the doctor had examined her.

“How is she?”

Feeling the thin layer of sweat on her forehead, he brushed it with the back of his hand. Not scalding anymore. He picked up a tissue and gently dabbed at her damp hair.

His actions were not meticulous, but to anyone watching, it was remarkable-Nick was actually taking care of

someone.

The doctor said softly, “Don’t worry, Mr. Hunt. I’ve given Miss Roswell a painkiller. She’s physically weak, low on energy. A full check-up would be best later.”

“Why hasn’t she woken yet?”

“She’s exhausted… overworked,” the doctor explained.

Finally reassured that she was safe, Nick relaxed slightly.

Rain-soaked and still dripping, a few strands of black hair clung to his forehead, making him look unlike his usual composed, commanding self. From the moment they’d returned home, his focus hadn’t shifted from her- he hadn’t even changed clothes.

A servant reminded him he could go, but as he moved, he felt a tug at his pant leg. His gaze fell: her small, unconscious hand was gripping him.

She was still asleep, brow furrowed, pallid, lips dry and trembling as if caught in a nightmare. Her body quivered lightly.

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“Sir, you should rest. We’ll take care of Miss Roswell.” The servant’s voice broke the quiet.

Nick’s Adam’s apple moved. After a pause, he said firmly, “All of you, leave.”

The staff exchanged astonished looks, but he was resolute. One by one, they departed, leaving only the two of them in the silent room. He could hear the heavy rhythm of her breath.

“What are you saying?”

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