You're not leaving this time.

Chapter 42: Chapter 42: So You Come and Touch Me

Lynn Winslow saw something was off with the look in his eyes and went to kick him, but he caught her by the ankle and gave it a flirtatious kiss.

”Let go,” she gritted out. ”Can’t you be a little more aware of your role in this?”

”Am I not aware enough? Isn’t this my purpose?” Ian Sterling’s lips curled as his long, slender fingers with their well-defined knuckles trailed slowly up her calf.

The sensation sent shivers through Lynn Winslow’s body. She tried to pull away, but there was no escape. Mustering her composure, she said in a cold voice, ”I’m the one in charge here, understand?”

”I understand.” He moved closer and closer, finally pulling Lynn Winslow into his embrace and coaxing softly, ”So, you come touch me.”

”Ian Sterling, weren’t you giving me the cold shoulder? Now you’re all over me. Is this really you?”

”Why wouldn’t it be?” Ian Sterling retorted. He turned to kiss her, then swept her into his arms and carried her back to the room.

Ian Sterling took from her relentlessly, and Lynn Winslow was forced to accept everything he gave, feeling as if she were being dragged into the depths of the ocean.

Finally, when Lynn Winslow could take no more, she wrenched her hand free from Ian Sterling’s grasp and slapped him across the face.

She had meant to use all her strength, but her arm and fingers were limp, and the slap landed on Ian Sterling’s face with only a faint sting.

Ian Sterling’s breathing was heavy. He looked down at Lynn Winslow, his eyes full of grievance. ”You hit me.”

”Enough.” Lynn Winslow’s voice was already hoarse; she practically breathed out the word.

But Ian Sterling wasn’t about to let her go. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

”Not enough.”

He was utterly shameless, and Lynn Winslow was helpless against him. She regretted her initial game of cat-and-mouse, regretted agreeing to this relationship that gave him free rein.

But what good were regrets? She had awakened Ian Sterling’s wild side. He had been faking it—all of it—from the moment he stepped into Amberly Bay. This was Lynn Winslow’s last coherent thought before she passed out.

The curtains weren’t drawn completely, and the hot afternoon sun streamed through the gap, landing on the ankle Lynn Winslow had kicked out from under the covers.

Lynn Winslow tried to roll over, but the slightest movement sent a tearing, aching pain through her exhausted body.

She was so frustrated she could have screamed. She irritably ran a hand through her hair, messing it up, then kicked the blanket hard. The resulting pain made her cry out loud.

Just then, her phone started vibrating incessantly on the nightstand. With great difficulty, Lynn Winslow scooted over, fumbled for the phone, and glanced at the caller ID. It was Mrs. Sterling.

She answered, and when she said, ”Hello,” her voice came out raspy and unpleasant.

Her eyes flew wide, and she clapped a hand over her mouth, unable to believe the sound that had just come from her own throat.

Mrs. Sterling was quiet for a moment before speaking. ”Lynn, I’ll make you some Snow Pear Soup in a little while. Are you hungry?”

Lynn Winslow gave a sullen grunt of affirmation. The pent-up anger inside her made her feel like crying.

Mrs. Sterling easily detected her frustration and coaxed gently, ”Someone sent a delivery for you. Do you want to come down and take a look?”

Lynn Winslow slowly climbed out of bed, changed into a set of loungewear, and took the elevator down to the first floor.

She just blinked at Mrs. Sterling, not wanting to speak. Mrs. Sterling quickly finished preparing the Snow Pear Soup, placing the bowl in an ice bath to cool it rapidly to a palatable temperature.

She pressed the bowl of Snow Pear Soup into Lynn Winslow’s hands and watched her drink it. Only after Lynn had finished did she retrieve the Sandalwood Box from the table.

”It must be from Mr. Sterling. Want to open it and see?”

Lynn Winslow bit her lip, her fingers twitching.

Knowing that Lynn wanted to look but was still fuming, Mrs. Sterling opened it for her. The piece of jewelry inside took even her breath away.

Her mouth fell open in amazement. ”The Sterling Family truly lives up to its name as Veridia’s top powerhouse. To think they even have antiques like this.”

Mrs. Sterling knew full well that the Sterling Family was no ordinary family. This was far more significant than her casual words suggested. Having lived with Lynn in the castle-like Winslow Manor in Morelia, she was accustomed to the nobility and high society of Morelia. Yet even she was taken aback by this item. How could she not recognize its immense value?

Lynn Winslow lowered her gaze to the glittering golden bracelet in the box and pressed her lips together.

Though the golden bracelet was well-maintained, its long history was apparent. It featured a delicate filigree design, and the gemstones, which had likely been reset, were dazzlingly bright and eye-catching.

She spoke, her voice no longer quite so raspy. ”He sends me an antique. Am I actually supposed to wear this out?”

”It looks very much like an item from that auction in Deneria over a decade ago.” Mrs. Sterling smiled as she took the golden bracelet out and lifted Lynn Winslow’s hand to put it on her. ”Most of the items at that auction were antiques of this kind. I recall the most expensive piece was a golden bracelet just like this one. Mr. Sterling was still young back then; it was probably one of the Sterling Family elders who purchased it.”

Lynn Winslow’s wrist was slender and fair, her skin delicate. Thank goodness Ian Sterling hadn’t been so crazed as to leave marks on it. If Mrs. Sterling had seen that, she would never have heard the end of it.

The golden bracelet beautifully complemented her fair skin. Lynn Winslow blinked. ”It’s alright,” she said softly.

”It’s beautiful,” Mrs. Sterling praised.

Lynn Winslow, however, took the golden bracelet off and placed it back in the box. Pursing her lips, she said, ”I’ll wear it later.”

”But it looks so lovely on you. Since it’s a gift, you should wear it.”

”No, it doesn’t go with my clothes,” Lynn Winslow said, shaking her head. She closed the box and turned to Mrs. Sterling. ”Mrs. Sterling, I’m hungry.”

Mrs. Sterling smoothed down Lynn’s messy hair, then went to the dining room and placed the prepared lunch in front of her.

”Have you two made up?” Mrs. Sterling asked softly.

Lynn Winslow shook her head as she ate. ”No,” she said calmly.

’Doing... that, even though they haven’t made up?’ Mrs. Sterling wasn’t exactly a prude, but she wasn’t that progressive either. She found it hard to understand the way young people thought these days.

”Remember to use protection.” Lynn Winslow’s parents were rarely around, so Mrs. Sterling, who had raised her, had to shoulder the responsibilities of teaching Lynn the things a mother normally would.

Lynn couldn’t help but think of her first time the day before. Feeling a little shy, she gave a noncommittal hum.

Mrs. Sterling’s phone pinged. She glanced at it, then said to Lynn, ”Mr. Sterling called you. When you didn’t pick up, he sent me a message.”

She handed the phone to Lynn, who frowned as she took it and read the screen.

[Hello, Mrs. Sterling. I just called Lynn but she didn’t answer. I’m not sure if she’s still asleep. Could I trouble you to ask her to call me back when she wakes up?]

”Before Mr. Sterling left, he came over to add me on his contacts. He said that if I run into any trouble in Quartos, I should call him.”

Lynn Winslow pursed her lips. Her only comment was, ”Completely unnecessary.”

Mrs. Sterling, who knew better than anyone that Lynn’s bark was worse than her bite, soothed her, ”He was just trying to be thoughtful.”

’Thoughtful? Ian Sterling doesn’t have a thoughtful bone in his body.’

’Three years ago, he was a normal, pampered young master. Now, he’s becoming more and more unhinged.’

After finishing her meal, she was about to go back to sleep when Mrs. Sterling reminded her to return Mr. Winslow’s call. Lynn acknowledged, went back to her room, and picked up the phone she had tossed on the bed. Sure enough, there were several missed calls.

She had no intention of calling *him* back, so she didn’t. Instead, she called her grandfather.

But the person who answered wasn’t Mr. Winslow. It was another familiar voice—mellow and refined.