Chapter 259

Evelyn stared at Nathaniel in bewilderment. Her situation had spiraled out of control so suddenly, and she had fully expected her brothers to be the ones to find her first.

When she heard the helicopter earlier, a fleeting hope had flickered in her chest—maybe, just maybe, her brothers had come to save her.

But no.

It was Nathaniel.

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. "What's that look for? Disappointed it's me? Who were you waiting for?"

"I just assumed it might be the police making a dramatic entrance. Is that so hard to believe?"

Swinging her uninjured leg, Evelyn continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "With your packed schedule, I never imagined you'd take such a personal interest and swoop in like some knight in shining armor. Color me surprised."

"Don't flatter yourself. I just didn’t want rumors spreading that my wife was dragged off to be some backwoods bride. Think of the scandal—what would people say?"

Evelyn’s gaze dropped. Of course. His haste had nothing to do with concern for her.

Just then, Nathaniel stood, clutching his first aid kit. "Since you're clearly in good spirits, I’ll take my leave."

Watching him turn away so casually, panic flared in her chest. "Hey! You’re seriously just going to walk away?"

Her eyes darted to the helicopter, where his team was already preparing to depart. It was as if no one cared whether she lived or died!

Desperation clawed at her. She scrambled to her feet. "Nathaniel Whitmore, stop right there! Legally, I’m still your wife. Are you really going to abandon me here? You heartless bastard!"

Nathaniel paused beside the helicopter, watching as she hobbled toward him. A smirk tugged at his lips before he schooled his expression into cool indifference. "Glad you remember you’re still my wife. Considering how often you forget."

Evelyn swallowed her pride. Survival first. "Fine. Take me with you."

His eyebrow arched. "Did you just call me a bastard?"

When he’d gotten word of her predicament, he’d dropped everything—calls, meetings, deals—to track her down. And this was the thanks he got?

Evelyn forced a sweet smile. "Mr. Whitmore, you’re dashing, generous, and utterly heroic. A man of your caliber deserves nothing but praise."

Nathaniel pinched her cheek, amused. "Try harder. That smile’s about as convincing as a politician’s promise."

Her temper flared. How dare he manhandle her like this?

He withdrew his hand. "One sincere compliment, and I’ll let you tag along."

Evelyn blinked. Was he serious?

She glanced at the helicopter, then back at him. "...You’re ridiculously attractive?"

"I know. Next."

"Your highness?"

"Try again."

Evelyn huffed. "Fine! Nathaniel, please!"

He shuddered. "Use real words."

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Honey? Darling? Sweetheart?"

A few of his men coughed to hide their laughter.

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. "Where did you even learn these ridiculous pet names?"

Evelyn threw her hands up. "You pick, then!"

In one swift motion, he swept her into his arms.

She gasped. "I can walk!"

"Not fast enough."

Evelyn gritted her teeth. Thanks for the reminder about my height, you insufferable man.