Chapter 831:

Soon, the room pulsed with soft, broken sounds, the ragged rhythm of his breath mingling with the low, breathless moans that filled the dark.

Oblivious to the commotion taking place within, Rylie lounged on the deck in high spirits, a glass of wine glinting in her hand as she watched the sun’s final glow dissolve into the horizon. Without realizing it, she had finished an entire bottle of champagne and, with no interruptions, savored the rare leisure in peace.

Rylie rose and made her way back, idly pushing open the door to a lounge with the thought of taking a brief rest. The room was dim, the faint spill of light from the deck casting only the vaguest outlines across the space.

She took a few steps toward the wall, reaching for the switch, but froze when a shape on the sofa caught her eye — a man’s silhouette, half lost in shadow, and the sharp scent of liquor lingering in the air.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, already turning to leave. “I didn’t realize someone was here.”

“Rylie.” The low voice came suddenly, rough and restrained, cutting through the silence and stopping her hand on the doorknob.

She hesitated, then stepped closer. The man lay slouched against the sofa, his hair damp and disordered, his white shirt loosened at the throat, long legs draped carelessly over the armrest.

The tension beneath the fabric left little to the imagination.

Rylie’s eyes darted toward him, her breath catching for a fraction of a second before she steadied herself, expression cooling into poise. “Yes?”

Seeing her frozen there like a statue, he let out a low, mirthless laugh.

Of course, it was her. His Rylie. The one woman who could rouse that unending hunger in him with nothing more than a glance.

“I don’t feel well,” he murmured hoarsely. “Help me.”

Though the champagne had left her a little unsteady, Rylie’s mind remained clear. She bent down beside him, pressing her palm to his forehead, and nearly recoiled. His skin burned with unnatural heat.

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“Someone’s drugged you,” she said, her brow creasing in alarm. “Hold on, I’ll get the doctor.”

She hadn’t brought any medicine aboard, so she turned toward the door, pulling it open. But before she could step out, voices drifted in from the corridor, Johnny’s among them, calling her name.

Johnny had intended to find Rylie and make amends for his behavior at the banquet, but when he checked her cabin and the deck, both were empty.

Then came the ship doctor’s warning: Brad had been given an aphrodisiac, and a cold weight gripped Johnny’s chest.

If Brad were to encounter Rylie in that state, he didn’t even want to imagine the consequences. Without hesitation, he sought out Marcus, and together they began a frantic search through the ship.

When Johnny finally neared the lounge, the door creaked open, only to be slammed shut by a powerful hand from inside.

Inside the room, Rylie was pinned between Brad’s unsteady body and the closed door, her back brushing against the warmth of his chest as the muffled sounds of Johnny’s voice faded down the corridor.

Brad’s arm braced the wall beside her head as he leaned in, his breath hot against her skin. A shiver ran through her when his lips touched the back of her neck. “I went to the ship’s doctor,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. “They said there’s no medicine for this.”

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