Isla Prescott's entire body was scorching hot.
Her fair skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and her cheeks were an abnormal, vivid red.
Shane Sterling could tell with a single glance that she had ingested something she shouldn't have.
He scooped her up and strode quickly outside.
Morgan Hayes, unaware of Isla Prescott's condition, moved to block him. "President Sterling, Miss Prescott needs to stay and give a statement."
Shane Sterling held the feverish woman in his arms even tighter. "In her state? How the hell is she supposed to give a statement?"
With that, he simply carried her away with long strides.
The Crescent Hotel was in upheaval tonight. Several police cars had sealed off the main entrance, and Shane Sterling's car was parked right behind them.
He carried her through the wail of sirens.
Seeing them emerge, Shane Sterling's special assistant, Justin Wyatt, got out and opened the rear passenger door for them.
