Felicia finally snapped out of her daze, feeling her face flush. "Why are you here?" she asked.

Stephan replied lazily, "I just finished work. I was planning to see you, but I didn't expect to find you here." He deliberately emphasized "find," his tone teasing.

Felicia was speechless, unable to formulate a response. Ever since she'd helped treat his wounds and nearly lost control, she'd been avoiding him. Whenever possible, she evaded him; if she couldn't, she made excuses to keep her distance. Yet here they were, encountering each other again.

Stephan glanced at his watch, then looked more closely at Felicia. He frowned. "It's 4:00 AM, and you ran out into the streets like this? In your pajamas? Barefoot?"

Embarrassed, she instinctively curled her toes. The next second, she felt herself lifted. A gasp escaped her lips as Stephan effortlessly scooped her into his arms. Before she could protest, he'd placed her in his car. There was no point struggling now.

About ten minutes later, his car pulled up in front of Felicia's villa. She realized she'd sleepwalked quite far, barefoot. The villa's front door was wide open—she must have left it that way. She wondered if a thief had taken advantage of it.

As she got out of the car, Stephan offered to carry her again, but she quickly refused. "No need! I'll walk on my own."

During her sleepwalking, her left foot had been cut by stones or debris. Several small, dirty cuts stung terribly. Felicia hobbled awkwardly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Stephan's expression darken. His patience seemed exhausted. In a single stride, he was before her. Turning, he crouched slightly. "Get on," he said.

She blinked, feeling something stir within her at the sight. The garden lights glowed softly, casting a warm light. Against this backdrop, she clearly saw the well-defined lines of Stephan's back. Even through his clothes, the tautness of his muscles was evident.

As she climbed onto his back, Felicia saw their shadows on the ground. A whimsical thought popped into her head. "Crouched like this, wouldn't it look like a proposal if he turned around?" she mused, quickly dismissing the idea.

Stephan carried her to the villa door. The facial recognition lock clicked open, and the lights illuminated the interior. Everything was as it had been; nothing seemed stolen.

Felicia patted Stephan's shoulder and pointed toward the bathroom, her demeanor rather entitled. "Could you drop me off there? I need to wash my feet."

He turned to look at her. The distance between them felt almost nonexistent. Their breaths mingled, their eyes met in an intense, unspoken exchange. It was overwhelming.

She quickly looked away, slid off his back, and darted into the bathroom, shutting the door. Washing her cut feet was uniquely painful, an experience she wouldn't wish to repeat.