Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 392

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Sylvia finally managed to steer the car out of the parking lot and onto the road, keeping a steady-if timid-pace.

Other drivers, catching a glimpse of her behind the wheel, seemed to sense the rookie in her and thought better than to honk or cut her off. They just gave her a wide berth.

About halfway home, the post-work traffic started to thicken. Sylvia's nerves were fraying. She kept slamming on the brakes every ta car merged too close.

"Sylvia, when was the last tyou actually drove a car?" Rupert asked, rubbing his temples. He was getting whiplash from all her sudden stops.

Clutching the steering wheel, Sylvia wracked her brain. Eight years ago? That sounded about right, but she didn't want to admit it. She finally mumbled, "Sophomore year of college." Her mom had made sure she got her license early, but she'd never owned a car- when would she have practiced? "Alright, just pull over for a second," Rupert said, his tone laced with rare exasperation.

Sylvia eased the car to the curb.

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Rupert hopped out, walked around, and slid into the driver's seat. He buckled up, cool as ever.

His presence right beside her made her even more jittery. She glanced at him. "So... what now?" A smirk appeared on Rupert's lips. He gently turned her chin toward the windshield. "Now you watch the road. Take a right up ahead." "Okay," she muttered.

Sylvia kept her hands on the wheel, but her mind was a mess. She just followed Rupert's directions and hoped for the best.

The car crept along at a snail's pace.

Rupert didn't complain. He just quietly told her where to go, never once criticizing her for driving his fancy car like it was a bumper car at the carnival.

At last-miraculously-they pulled into his garage without a scratch.

"We made it," Sylvia exhaled, relief flooding her. The thought of denting a car that probably cost more than her college tuition had haunted her the whole drive.

Rupert didn't rush to get out. He checked his watch and said, "Congrats, Sylvia. That thirty-minute drive only took you one hour and three minutes." Sylvia shot back, "Uncle Rupert, at least I got you here safe and sound. I should Rupert suddenly doubled over, coughing into his fist so hard she thought he might throw up.

Didn't Chris say concussions could cause dizziness and nausea? Sylvia bit back her retort, got out, and hurried around to the passenger side, opening the door to help him.

"Uncle Rupert, lethelp you inside." "Mm," Rupert grunted, letting her guide out of the car. But as soon as he stood, he an arm around her waist, pulling herinto his side.

Sylvia froze, wrapped in his warmth and the subtle scent of his cologne. "What are you doing?" "Aren't you supposed to help me?" Rupert replied, deadpan.

|| She had no comeback-she just let him keep his arm around her as she led him up the steps. Inside, she settled him on the living room couch and dropped his bag of meds on the coffee table.

She checked the prescription. "You're supposed to take these after eating." Just as she said it, her phone dinged with a message from Orson.

"Ms. Lloyd, Mr. Rupert still hasn't had a meal today. The housekeeper's off, so I hope you can help out." She shot right back: "No way, your Mr. Rupert can cook for himself! Don't try to trick me!" Orson replied with a smirking emoji.

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Rupert glanced at her phone, then

got up, ignoring her confusion. "Aren't they for after a meal? I'm hungrym anyway I'll fix something." He coughed and headed for the kitchen.

Sylvia wasn't about to let herself get roped into dinner duty She'd gotten же him hSafe; her job was done.

She stood, polite but firm. "Well, I'll head out then. See you, Uncle Rupert."

She'd just made it to the foyer and was slipping on her shoes when a crash rang out from the kitchen-a dish by the sound of it, shattering on the tile.

She hesitated, then rushed in, shoes forgotten.

"Uncle Rupert-" As soon as she stepped into the kitchen, his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.

She could feel his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, "Leaving already?" Sylvia shot him a sideways glare. "Uncle Rupert, you're playing dirty." "All's fair in love and war," he quipped.

Before she could retort, his hand cupped her cheek, and he bent down, pressing his lips softly-yet insistently-to hers.

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Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

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