Secret Marriage: The CEO's Pampered Wife

The girl went into the house and soon came out with a young woman.

"What happened to you two?" the young woman asked in a thick, local accent. "Quick, come inside!"

Seeing that Georgia Thorne was about to lose her grip on Elliot Sheridan, the woman helped support him.

Together, they helped Elliot into the house and laid him flat on the bed. Georgia Thorne tucked him in.

She turned to the young woman gratefully. "Thank you for letting us in!"

The young woman waved her hand. "Are you two tourists?"

’I can’t just tell her that Elliot dragged me to the beach and threatened to kill himself.’

She smiled and said, "Something like that!"

The young woman told them to rest and brought over a basin of hot water a little while later.

"You should wipe him down. He’s covered in sand. You too!" She pointed at the two of them, both looking like a complete mess.

"Thank you. Thank you so much!"

The people here were simple and hospitable. It wasn’t the first time they had encountered tourists in trouble like Georgia Thorne.

After giving her instructions, she left with her daughter.

It was a little girl’s room. A small room, with a desk next to the single bed. A lamp sat on the desk, along with a neat stack of textbooks.

Georgia Thorne dipped a towel in the hot water, unbuttoned Elliot Sheridan’s clothes, and slowly began to wipe him down.

Utterly exhausted, Elliot Sheridan had already fallen asleep, his eyes closed.

After wiping him clean, she covered his body with the blanket.

The clear water had turned murky. Georgia Thorne went to dump it out, and when she returned, she saw Elliot Sheridan struggling to get up from the bed.

"Why are you up?" Georgia Thorne hurried over and steadied his stumbling body.

Elliot had only closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them and couldn’t find her, he had panicked.

He grabbed her wrist and roared, "Where did you go?"

His brows knitted together fiercely, his expression fraught with anxiety.

Even though he was weak, she could feel the strength in his grip on her wrist. "I just went to throw out the water. I didn’t go anywhere!"

"You’re not allowed to go anywhere!" Elliot let her help him lie back on the pillow, but he gripped her wrist tightly, refusing to let go.

"I won’t. I’ll stay here and watch over you," Georgia Thorne said, pulling a chair to the bedside and coaxing him softly.

The slightest movement from her would cause Elliot to wake with a start, glaring at her viciously.

As Georgia Thorne watched over him, she noticed his body was gradually warming up, but something was wrong.

His temperature was climbing higher and higher. He seemed to have a fever.

This sent Georgia Thorne into a panic. The moment she stood up, the grip on her wrist tightened, and Elliot woke instantly.

"Elliot, let go of me first. You have a fever!"

Elliot wouldn’t listen to a word she said. "Don’t leave me!"

In his feverish state, Elliot was like a stubborn child. No matter what Georgia Thorne said, he clung to her hand, refusing to let her leave.

Left with no other choice, Georgia Thorne glanced at the neat name on a textbook and called out for the little girl.

"Hailey! Hailey!"

The little girl, who was playing outside, heard someone calling her name from her own room. She ran over quickly. "What’s wrong, Miss?"

"Hailey, can you go get your mom? He has a fever!"

"But my mom just went out! She’s not home!"

"Then do you know if there’s a doctor around here?"

The little girl nodded. Georgia Thorne said with relief, "Could you go get the doctor for me, please? Tell him this man is sick."

The little girl nodded and then ran outside.

Even though someone had gone to find a doctor, Georgia Thorne couldn’t relax.

She reached out to feel Elliot Sheridan’s forehead and tried to move her wrist. "Elliot, can you please let go!"

His forehead was getting hotter. She needed to do something to bring his temperature down before the doctor arrived.

Elliot weakly opened his eyes, his dark irises filled with a fierce glint. "We’re not divorced. You’re not going anywhere!"

He was sick, but his consciousness—and his possessiveness—was as strong as ever.

Georgia Thorne sighed in resignation and coaxed him softly, "Okay, okay, I won’t go anywhere. I’m just thirsty. I want to get some water."

The grip on her wrist tightened. Georgia Thorne continued, "You’re sick. How could I bear to leave you? Right?"

Tired and drowsy, Elliot slowly loosened his grip on her wrist.

Georgia Thorne breathed a sigh of relief, quickly filled a basin with cold water, and placed a damp, cool towel on Elliot Sheridan’s forehead.

She changed the towel over and over. Just as she was about to start pacing with worry, the little girl finally returned with the doctor.

Georgia Thorne made way for the doctor. "Doctor, please take a look at him!"

The doctor first took Elliot Sheridan’s temperature. "39 degrees. Let’s start an IV drip."

"Okay. Doctor, please be gentle. I’m afraid he can’t take much."

The doctor set up an IV for Elliot and prescribed some fever-reducing medicine. "All three of these bags are for the drip. Start with these two large ones, and give the small one last, understand?"

"You must administer them in order. And this medicine—two pills, three times a day. Make sure he takes it on time. If his fever is still high tonight, keep applying a cold towel. If that doesn’t work, have Hailey come find me again." After giving his instructions, the doctor left.

He had other patients to see.

Georgia Thorne stayed by the bedside until all three IV bags were empty. By then, the sky was completely dark.

She carefully felt Elliot Sheridan’s forehead. It was still burning hot, so she continued to apply the cool towel.

That night, the little girl’s mother and father returned together.

The girl’s mother made dinner and brought it to the room. "I heard from Hailey that he has a fever. Is he doing any better?"

Georgia Thorne felt helpless. His forehead was still scorching. She didn’t know if the medicine was working yet and was extremely anxious.

"You should eat something first."

"No, thank you. I don’t have an appetite right now."

Hailey’s mother noticed that their clothes suggested they weren’t from a small place like this. The man, in particular, had an extraordinary air about him; his status was likely anything but ordinary.

She placed the food on the desk. "You should eat a little. Our food is simple, probably not as good as what you’re used to in the city, but this fish is fresh. My husband just caught it."

Georgia Thorne couldn’t refuse, so she took a couple of bites.

Here, by the sea, everything they ate came from the ocean.

Georgia Thorne ate a little but couldn’t manage any more. The little girl’s mother didn’t press her. "I’ll bring you some hot water to wash up in a bit."

"Thank you," Georgia Thorne said once again.

When the mother returned, she brought hot water. The little girl followed, holding up her mother’s clothes. "Miss, these are my mom’s clothes."

After thanking them, Georgia Thorne closed the door and looked at the sleeping man on the bed, letting out a short sigh.

The residents here were poor. A yellow light bulb swayed overhead, flickering from time to time.

Right in front of Elliot Sheridan, she took off her clothes, quickly washed the sand from her body, and changed into the clean garments.

The residents lived by the sea, and even the houses carried the thick scent of the ocean.

As she buttoned up and turned around, she realized the man on the bed had woken up at some point.

He was watching her, his gaze direct and unveiled as it swept over her body.

Georgia Thorne’s face instantly burned. ’Did he just see me getting undressed?’

He hadn’t just seen it; he had seen everything.

An awkward silence filled the room.

Suddenly, Elliot Sheridan coughed. She moved closer. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Elliot shook his head, seizing the opportunity to grab her hand. "Get in bed."

Georgia Thorne didn’t move. She had planned to watch over him from the chair all night.

As she hesitated, Elliot spoke. "What’s wrong? I’m in this state. It’s not like I can do anything to you."

’...’ ’That’s not what I meant at all!’

’Besides, this bed is tiny. How are two adults supposed to fit?’

In the end, under Elliot Sheridan’s stubborn insistence, Georgia Thorne turned off the light and lay down on the inner side of the bed.

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her, pulling her forcefully into an embrace.

Georgia Thorne gasped, and she heard his voice. "Don’t move. Just let me hold you."

That afternoon, although Elliot had been in a daze, he still had some recollection of what happened.

Every time he opened his eyes, Georgia Thorne had been right there, watching over him at his bedside.

In the darkness, she could smell him—his own scent, but mostly, the scent of the sea.

After some time, she heard the steady rhythm of his breathing and figured he had fallen asleep.

Georgia Thorne moved her hands, carefully wrapping an arm around his waist, her fingers stiffly clutching his shirt.

It had been a long time since she had held him like this. Georgia told herself she would just hold him for a few minutes, then let go.

A few minutes later, however, the sleeping Elliot pulled her even tighter into his arms, trapping her hand under his arm so she couldn’t pull it away.

She carefully tried to pull her hand free, but a hot palm suddenly covered the back of it. The man’s voice was close to her ear. "Georgia, it’s been so long since you’ve held me on your own."

It sounded more like a complaint.

Georgia Thorne didn’t pull her hand away, letting him hold her without moving.

Elliot’s fever didn’t return during the night, which put Georgia Thorne at ease.

The next morning, while the two were still asleep, the little girl suddenly burst in.

"Miss, time to get up!"

Georgia Thorne was startled awake by the voice. The girl saw them sleeping together. "Miss, why are you sleeping with the mister?"

Georgia Thorne’s face flushed. She scrambled out of bed and whispered, "You go out first. I’ll be right out!"

The little girl said, "Oh," and ran outside, cheerfully calling for her mother.

Georgia Thorne sat on the bed and looked over at the man, who happened to be looking right back at her.

Elliot Sheridan’s face was grim. ’Who’s a mister?!’

She scratched her hair. "Um, you’re awake."

"Yeah."

Georgia Thorne practically fled in a panic, hurrying out of the room.

Outside, the little girl had already finished breakfast and left for school with her backpack on.

"You’re up. Is your man’s fever any better?"

"Thank you, he’s much better!"

After waking up, Elliot Sheridan took his medicine and slept for a few more hours.

When he woke up again, it was already noon.

His first instinct upon opening his eyes was to look for Georgia Thorne. She wasn’t in the room. He threw off the covers and strode out.