Evelyn’s first instinct was to refuse.

Since she and Julian had begun dating, he had always subtly pressed for more physical closeness.

But Evelyn had always dreamed of saving that ultimate intimacy for her wedding night.

She wanted to share her first time with the man she would call her husband.

Her relationship with Julian had only involved innocent affection—holding hands, brief embraces, nothing further.

Now, she was married to a man she barely knew.

Alexander Blackwood.

They had met only once before this.

Sharing a bed with him?

The thought was overwhelming.

It was all moving too fast.

Alexander seemed completely unaffected by her obvious shock.

His voice was calm, almost detached.

“We are married,” he stated simply. “Is it not expected that we share a bed?”

He paused, his sharp eyes studying her frozen expression.

A shadow of something unreadable crossed his features.

“Or…” he continued, his tone shifting, laced with a bitter edge. “Does my condition make you uncomfortable?”

Evelyn opened her mouth to protest.

But she saw it—a flash of genuine self-mockery in his gaze before he looked away.

“My apologies,” he murmured, the bitterness thickening his voice. “I understand. No woman truly wishes for a husband who is… limited.”

A sharp pang of guilt struck Evelyn’s heart.

“No!” she interrupted, her voice firm. “That’s not it at all!”

She took a deep breath, forcing conviction into her words.

“You are my husband. Sharing a bed is… part of that. I accept it.”

Yet, a cold knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach.

The idea of such proximity to a virtual stranger was deeply unsettling.

But she had made her choice.

There was no going back.

She would have to adapt.

Alexander observed the conflict in her eyes.

He gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod.

“It’s late,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “I retire early. I hope you can accommodate my schedule.”

Evelyn nodded quickly, the knot in her stomach twisting. “Of course. I’ll just get my suitcase.”

“Wait.” His voice stopped her.

He wheeled his chair toward the en-suite bathroom.

“Given my circumstances,” he explained without looking back, “the staff usually assists me with certain… necessities. But now that you are here, I would prefer my wife to take on that role.”

He reached the bathroom door and pushed it open.

Then he turned, his gaze locking with hers, intense and unyielding.

“Help me bathe.”

Evelyn’s breath hitched. “How?”

One eyebrow arched. “By helping me undress, naturally.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

But remembering his words about his condition and her new role, she swallowed her protest.

She forced her feet to move forward, each step feeling heavier than the last.

She stared at his broad back.

She silently reminded herself: He is your husband. This is your duty now.

Her hands trembled as she unclenched them.

She slowly reached for the buttons on his crisp, white shirt.

The buttons were small and finely made.

Her palms were damp with nervous sweat.

Her fumbling fingers slipped, failing to grasp the first button.

Alexander remained perfectly still.

A faint, amused glint appeared in his eyes as he watched her struggle.

He was certain she resented this.

He expected her to reveal her disgust at having to care for a disabled man.

He waited, curious to see how long her patience would last.

To his surprise, after the initial fluster, Evelyn’s expression shifted to one of sheer determination.

She focused on her task, methodically working each button loose.

As the shirt fell open, it revealed a powerfully built, sculpted chest.

The raw, masculine strength of his torso was undeniable.

Evelyn had never been this close to a semi-nude man.

A hot blush crept up her neck and flooded her cheeks.

Her breath caught.

Her hands shook.

He watched the subtle changes in her face, a surge of satisfaction moving through him.

He felt in control of the situation.

Then, her cool, soft fingertips accidentally brushed against the skin of his abdomen.

The contact was fleeting.

But it sent a jolt, like an electric shock, through his entire body.

Every muscle in his frame tensed.

A wave of intense, sudden heat surged through him, pooling low in his gut.

It was as if all the blood in his veins had rushed to one central, burning point.