Clara had barely settled in for a half-hour rest when a knock interrupted her quiet time.
She opened the door and found Aiden standing there. His tone was as formal as ever. "Ms. Clara, Mr. Dylan has invited you for dinner."
Clara, having only snacked on apples earlier, was more than ready for a proper meal.
As she stepped into Dylan's room, the lights were glowing brightly, showcasing a lavish dinner spread. Dylan sat at the table, engrossed in a book. He heard her enter, looked up slowly, and said, "Please, take a seat."
Clara felt her stomach rumble and sat down without fuss. "Thank you, Mr. Dylan."
The table was filled with at least fifteen different dishes—a showcase of culinary delights from land, sea, and air. Clara was taken aback by the luxurious spread, impressed by the effort Dylan had gone to.
She picked up her cutlery and started eating at a leisurely pace. Dylan put his book aside and began slicing into the steak on his plate.
Clara was nearly full when she noticed Dylan had hardly touched his food. She was surprised, expecting a man of his stature to have a bigger appetite.
Just then, a knock echoed through the room, but it wasn't Dylan's door—it was hers.
"Clara, are you in there?" Addison's voice called, probably about the big order they needed to discuss.
Clara stood up, but a sharp pain in her knee made her stagger. Her hand instinctively grabbed the tablecloth, pulling it just enough to send a bowl of butternut squash soup flying onto Dylan's trousers.
She froze for a moment before quickly grabbing napkins to clean up the mess. The soup had spilled onto a rather embarrassing spot, and it took her a moment to realize that this might not be the best course of action.
Looking up, she met Dylan's steady gaze. He reached out, gently taking her wrist. His eyes were filled with an intensity. "Stop."
Clara stood up straight. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Dylan. My knee just gave out."
Her knee continued to throb painfully.
He held onto her wrist for a few moments longer, then asked, "Is it very painful?"
Addison's voice was still audible outside, so Clara replied, "It's not too bad. I have to head to North Ashford tonight. It's a bit of a drive from South Ashford, and I won't be back until late. There are apple orchards there, too, and I plan to talk to the farmers about prices."
North Ashford's farmers had sort of been neglected by the government in favor of South Ashford's more famous apples. If Clara’s help was needed there, that was where she would go.
Dylan's grip on her wrist tightened slightly, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin, leaving a warm sensation. He let go and said, "The farmers in North Ashford can be tough to deal with. They've got a lot of grudges from being overlooked."
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