Chapter 19 Grace opened her blurry eyes and tried to look up at Ethan, but everything was a blur. She mustered enough strength to reach out and grab his hand that was resting on the arm of the wheelchair. He didn't pull away, but he didn't move any closer, either. He kept himself at a distance. "Give me water, please," she pleaded, the heat consuming her. Ethan's fingers suddenly tightened on her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Do you know who I am?" she had no idea - all she knew was she was about to die of thirst. The hand he used to grip her chin felt strangely alluring. She took his hand with both of hers and kissed her way from his fingertips to his palm. His hand trembled slightly, his throat bobbed as he turned his wheelchair. She leaned on it, and at that moment, she fell onto the carpet. The room was chilly, and all she could see was him moving toward the bathroom.

Soon, the sound of water running filled the space. Grace curled up on the carpet, feeling like her skin was crawling with a thousand ants, an unbearable, bone-deep itch. Ethan ignored her, instead moving to a corner, picking up a book, and starting to read. Grace's breath came in shallow gasps, her body slick with sweat. Twenty minutes later, she felt like she had just been pulled from the depths of water, her hair drenched in sweat.

Ethan moved over and scooped her up, carrying her into the bathroom and depositing her into a tub filled with cold water. The clash of scorching heat and icy cold made her shiver violently. For a brief moment, her mind cleared, and she pressed her lips together. She was soaked through as she sat in the tub. Ethan's expensive suit became damp from the splashes, but he sat in his wheelchair, staring down at her. "Are you feeling better?" he asked.

Grace shivered again, about to say that she was feeling fine, but the heat came rushing back, stronger than before, overwhelming her again. She leaned back, nearly slipping into the tub. Ethan's reflexes were quick. He grabbed her just in time, his own clothes getting soaked in the process. Grace leaned in the tub, and her hands cupped his face in a frantic kiss. This man - how could his kisses be so cold? She prodded his lips open with her tongue, trying to draw more from him.

But before she could, she was suddenly pushed underwater. Ethan turned around. His hands were gripping the sides of his wheelchair, his fingers curled up tightly, and the tendons in his wrists flexed. "Come out when you're fully awake." Grace was truly awake now. Her body was still burning with heat, but now she felt the sting of the cold creeping in. She slapped her face a few times, finally realizing her cheek was numb.

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Taking a deep breath, she buried her face in the cold water until she felt her body cool. When she finally rose, she almost collapsed as she stepped out of the tub. The heat had subsided, but what followed was a deep sense of embarrassment. She stood at the bathroom door, water dripping down her body. Ethan still sat in his wheelchair, his suit visibly soaked. Yet, he was unfazed. His hands crossed over his abdomen, and he raised his eyes slightly.

Grace felt incredibly awkward, her toes gripping the floor, unsure of what to say. "Are you feeling better?" he asked. "Thanks for tonight, Mr. Henderson," Grace said, heading to the bed. "Is this file useful to you?" she asked, grabbing the file quickly to distract herself. It contained information about the business layouts of Durville's major families, including their connections. It was invaluable for someone like her, who had lost her memory.

When Grace glanced at him, he frowned and unbuttoned his suit jacket. "You're wet," he pointed out. They were currently in a luxury suite, and they were in the master bedroom. Grace felt more awkward than ever, as though she were being treated like a stranger. She strolled toward the living room, glancing over and seeing Ethan taking off his suit jacket. Before long, he reappeared, dressed in fresh clothes, pointing to a shopping bag beside him.

"Those are your clothes to get changed," he informed her. Grace hurried to grab the bag and went into the bathroom. When she opened it, she found that Ethan had thoughtfully included underwear. She quickly changed, scrutinizing herself in the mirror. Her cheek was still a little red, with one side swollen. After a moment's hesitation, she opened the door and stepped out. Ethan was sitting in his wheelchair, flipping through company documents. There was an ice pack on the coffee table.

He had his head tilted down, and his fingers looked long and graceful, exuding an almost ascetic elegance. "Ice your face," he said. Grace was still shaken from everything that had happened. It was already 11:00 pm, but she didn't want to leave. She sat on the couch, pressing the ice pack to her swollen cheek. The only sound in the room was the rustling of Ethan's papers, and the silence was so thick that it felt like a needle could drop and be heard.

Grace had initially felt awkward about the kiss, but now, seeing how calm he was, she suddenly felt like she had blown it out of proportion. To him, that kiss was probably nothing more than a passing breeze. Ethan just seemed like the type of person who had no desires.