The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1912

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Back in her room.

Stella lay motionless on the bed. Her body was burning up, her cheeks flushed a deep, feverish red.

Receiving the urgent call, the medical team rushed over.

And leading them was Roger.

"I'll take it from here. Give us the room."

Seeing her lying there so pale and frail, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her blankets. "Bring a few space heaters in here," he ordered, his voice raw.

"Right away."

The other doctors hadn't initially understood why he had sprinted all the way here with them.

But looking at the scene unfolding...

It all made sense.

Exchanging knowing glances, they set down their medical kits and quietly slipped out the door.

Stella had been struggling to acclimate to the new environment, barely eating, and she had caught a chill early that morning.

From her symptoms, it was obvious she had been sick for days and was simply running on empty until she finally crashed.

Roger dimmed the lights until the room was steeped in shadows, reducing his features to a mere silhouette.

Confident there wouldn't be any sudden complications, he rolled up his sleeves and opened the medical kit.

His movements were swift but incredibly gentle as he tended to her.

The moment the icy cooling patch touched her forehead, a violent shiver wrecked through her burning body.

Seconds later, her eyelids fluttered open, glassy and unfocused.

Exhausted and disoriented by the darkness, she couldn't make out the man sitting beside her.

She couldn't even tell if she was awake or trapped in a fever dream.

The world felt hollow, save for the relentless, splitting agony in her skull.

She thought... she was seeing Roger again.

Why was he haunting her every thought?

Her struggles gradually ceased, and she slumped against him, her breathing ragged and heavy.

"Open your mouth. You need to take this."

Roger pressed the pill to her lips, but she kept them clamped shut, stubbornly refusing his coaxing.

Exasperated by the frail but fiercely defiant woman in his arms, Roger wiped a bead of sweat from his own brow. His predatory gaze drifted down to her flushed lips.

Her fever was dangerously high; she couldn't skip the medication.

If she wouldn't take it willingly, he'd have to resort to more desperate measures.

"Take the medicine, sweetheart. Be good for me."

Roger closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath to rein in his fraying composure. He patiently coaxed her, his voice thick with repressed tension. "I really don't want to take advantage of you right now, but if you don't open up, I'm going to..."

His eyes darkened, his mind buzzing with a chaotic mix of concern and desire.

Just as the threat left his lips.

Stella suddenly let out a harsh cough. Seizing the opening, he slipped the pill onto her tongue and quickly chased it with a sip of water.

Watching her swallow it down safely, Roger placed the glass back on the nightstand. A wry, almost disappointed smirk crossed his face. "Oh, so now you decide to cooperate?"