Alexander had assumed Evelyn just went home to pack a few of his belongings.

He never expected she would go to the trouble of making him chicken soup from scratch.

The thought of her injuring herself for his sake made him profoundly uncomfortable.

She was still recovering from the effects of that harmful medication, her palm freshly scarred. Her body needed time to heal.

And now this.

Evelyn steadied herself and spoke softly. "You're looking at it all wrong. When you love someone, you want to do things for them. I love you, so I wanted to help. I couldn't just stand by and do nothing."

A faint smile touched Alexander's lips. "You misunderstand. I'd prefer it if you were a bit lazier. Even if you did nothing at all, I am more than capable of taking care of you."

"Absolutely not!" Evelyn huffed, pulling her hand back and reaching for the soup ladle. "I'll have you know I'm on my way to becoming a world-class designer. I am not the type to sit around idle. Who knows, maybe one day it will be me taking care of you."

As she poured the fragrant soup, the room filled with its rich, savory aroma.

"Here, drink it while it's hot," she said, smiling.

Alexander accepted the bowl but didn't drink. He placed it on the bedside table.

"It's too hot. I'll let it cool," he stated.

Then, he gently guided her to sit beside him, his gaze fixed on the burn on her hand.

"It's still swollen. Are you certain you used the ointment?" Alexander frowned, a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

Evelyn offered a soft smile. "Of course. One of the maids helped me apply it."

He paused, studying the injury. "This looks severe. You need something stronger than a basic ointment. It needs to address the inflammation. What you have at home is likely for minor burns."

"It's really not that bad," she murmured, trying to dismiss it.

Alexander ignored her protest. He called to his assistant waiting by the door. "Go to the pharmacy. Get the prescribed burn cream. Tell them the burn is red, swollen, and causing a stinging sensation."

The assistant nodded promptly. "Right away, Mr. Blackwood."

Evelyn blinked, surprised. "How did you know it stings?"

Alexander raised an eyebrow, his thumb gently smoothing her furrowed brow. "You only get this little crease here when you're in pain."

She stared at him, astonished. "How is that even possible?"

"Don't believe me?" he teased, his voice low. "Believe it or not, I see right through you, my love."

The assistant soon returned with the special ointment.

"The soup should be cool enough now. You should drink it. I can handle the ointment," Evelyn said, reaching for the tube.

Alexander was quicker. He took it from the assistant. "I'll do it."

"Your arm is injured. Let me," she insisted.

He unscrewed the cap effortlessly with one hand. "Who was it that said caring for someone means doing things for them? Are you going to deny me the chance to show how I feel?"

Evelyn was momentarily speechless.

With his good hand, Alexander carefully applied the cool cream to her burn, his touch deliberate and gentle.

He occasionally blew a soft, cool breath over the skin to soothe the discomfort.

"This should help with the pain," he said quietly.

Evelyn watched him, deeply moved by his meticulous care. A profound warmth bloomed in her chest.