Vincent's gaze traced down from her forehead, past her nose, and stopped at her flushed red lips.
He prided himself on being a man of exceptional self-control.
After all, there were plenty of women around him, yet none had ever succeeded in getting into his bed. Except Dorothy—she was the exception.
In her presence, his self-control was as fragile as ice cream under a blazing sun.
He knew she was injured, but all he could think about was how she looked under him last night.
'Damn it. Is she toxic or something?' he thought. 'Or maybe... the effects of the drug are still lingering?'
Seeing that he had no intention of moving away, Dorothy shrank back slightly. "I have wounds down there. It wouldn't be good for you either—what if you get an infection..."
"Were you this scared when you d
