Chapter 97 A Resolve Stronger Than Death
A mere half-hour later, the subtle vibration of Rachel's phone interrupted her poker game. She glanced at the screen, her heart pounding in her chest as she read the message.
"Room 211 on the second floor."
Lifting her gaze, she abruptly rose from her seat, addressing her friends with a casual air. "I'm not in the mood to play anymore. You all carry on."
With Rachel's departure, the remaining glamorous women exchanged puzzled glances.
"Rachel is such a puzzle," one of them muttered, her tone laced with annoyance. "She's the one who insisted on playing, and now she's the one who's left us high and dry."
"Shh, not so loud. She might still be within earshot," another cautioned.
"What's there to fear? The soundproofing here is excellent," retorted a woman clad in a dark blue dress. "Is Rachel returning? If not, I'll invite my friend to fill her spot. We need another player."
"She won't be back. The banquet concludes in an hour. We need to hurry!"...
Outside room 211, Rachel's heart pounded like a drum in her chest. She took a deep, steadying breath, summoning every ounce of courage before pushing the door open. This was, without a doubt, the most audacious thing she had ever done in her twenty years of existence.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn to block out the outside world. The only sound was Jamie's labored breathing, filling the room with a palpable tension. Rachel approached the bed, her eyes falling on Jamie, his expression one of utter turmoil.
Softly, she called out to him. "Jamie."
Jamie's eyes fluttered open, his body wracked with discomfort. It felt as though he was on the brink of combustion, the heat within him unbearable.
His mind was a whirlpool of confusion, but he could make out a figure standing before him.
"Who are you?"
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He had been deceived.
He had never anticipated that someone would dare to interfere with Ruben's banquet.
In that moment, he saw a woman advancing towards him. As she stepped into the dim moonlight, he recognized her. It was Rachel!
Jamie gritted his teeth, fighting to maintain some semblance of clarity. "Rachel..."
Rachel looked at the man she had yearned for, standing right before her, his discomfort evident. In that moment, she made a decision.
"Jamie, it's me," she declared boldly, shedding her clothes and standing bare before him.
Jamie clenched his fists, the discomfort in his body escalating to an unbearable level. But he knew that the woman before him was Rachel, his sister, and he couldn't allow himself to entertain any inappropriate thoughts. Clinging to the last vestiges of his sanity, he ground out the words, "Rachel, put your clothes on!!"
In the heat of the moment, Rachel clung to him with a desperate intensity, his body radiating an intoxicating warmth. The contrast of her cool, soft form pressed against his ignited a shiver that ran through Jamie's body, his self-control wavering in the face of his escalating desire.
His forehead throbbed with the strain of his effort, veins standing out in stark relief as he tried to push her away. "Rachel, you need to leave!" he exclaimed, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control.
"Jamie..." Rachel's voice was a whisper, a plea. Gone was the air of superiority she once carried. All she yearned for now was Jamie's affection. A plan began to form in her mind: if her grandfather discovered them, she would confess her feelings for Jamie, admitting that they had shared a bed. Surely, under such circumstances, Jamie would feel obligated to take responsibility for her. Her grandfather, who adored her above all else, would undoubtedly consent to their union.
Yet, Jamie's resolve remained unyielding, his teeth gritted in determination.
No matter the cost, even if it meant facing death itself, he would not lay a hand on Rachel!
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