Blanche’s POV
The fever made my head spin as Zain reached toward me. By the time I realized what was happening, his hand had already slipped beneath my shirt.
When I tried to protect myself, I grabbed both my clothes and his hand at the same time.
My reaction was too strong, too forceful, and I accidentally pushed his hand deeper—right onto my breast.
His hand burned against my cold skin like fire.
I was completely out of it. Before I could even think to let go, Zain spoke first. “Blanche, don’t you have any shame?”
I lifted my face to look at him, my cheeks flushed, my vision hazy and unfocused. I still felt like I was floating somewhere between sleep and consciousness.
Zain lowered his head, staring into my eyes, seemingly captivated by whatever he saw there.
