Celine adjusted her shirt and turned to look at Adam. He didn't glance at or answer the phone beside the table, letting it ring repeatedly. It was the first time Adam had ignored Carly's call.

He rose, removed his black coat, revealing his white shirt, stained with blood on the back. Celine was reminded of the lash Mary had inflicted on his back—a lash that had cut him open, yet he'd remained outwardly brave. The wound needed treatment to prevent infection.

"I'll get the first-aid kit," Celine said.

Adam turned and flashed an attractive smile. "Weren't you ignoring me earlier?"

Bending to retrieve the kit, Celine retorted, "I just didn't want Grandma to worry."

When Adam sat on the bed, Celine instructed, "Take off your shirt."

He obediently complied, revealing an exquisite upper body. It was the first time Celine had seen him shirtless: broad shoulders, firm muscles, a six-pack, and a slender waist. His physique led down to black pants held up by an expensive black leather belt.

The sight made Celine blush crimson. She didn't know where to look.

"We're even now," Adam's alluring voice rang out.

Stunned, Celine asked, "What do you mean?"

"You've seen my waist, just as I saw yours."

"I didn't!" Celine shrieked.

"Then why is your face red?" Adam teased.

Celine immediately regretted offering her help. She used a Q-tip to disinfect his wound—deep, red, and alarmingly inflamed from being exposed so long. She did her best to be gentle.

"This time, Carly is in the wrong," Adam said. "I apologize to you on her behalf."

Celine stopped. She couldn't believe his apology. He truly regarded Carly as family.

"Do you always clean up Carly's messes? She's starting to involve Grandma. Who knows what else she'll do? Adam, you've spoiled her."

A mysterious look filled his eyes. "She wasn't like this in the past. She's become a stranger."

Celine stopped again. "What was she like in the past?"

Adam's lips curled into a smile as he thought of the younger Carly. "In the past, she was very lovable. I liked her."

Celine felt insulted. She wondered what that made her. In fact, she'd always wanted to ask him that—what their past meant to him. But she knew: Carly was all he cared for.

Celine accidentally stabbed the Q-tip into his wound. The sharp pain made him gasp, his face paling. "Did you do that on purpose?"