Zoe hadn't responded, but she found herself already pulled onto his lap. As she settled, Mason let out a muted groan, likely aggravated the ligament in his injured thigh.

Zoe whispered, "Should I get off?"

Her slender waist was embraced, bringing them close. Mason exuded a purely masculine aura, a tempting warmth that was both near and distant.

He lowered his gaze to her posture. She was clad in loose hospital attire, sitting on the man's lap with her fair legs resting on the dark fabric of his trousers,. Itemitted an indescribable sense of taboo, as if she were entwined with a man.

Mason's voice grew huskier. "Just stay on my lap while you apply the ointment."

Zoe didn't resist further. She took the medicine box he handed her and silently began applying the ointment. The soft lighting surrounded them as Mason, positioned higher, observed her expression.

With lowered brows and willing to sit on his lap, he believed he understood her choice.

She sacrificed herself to help her b