Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 33: Will You Still Try to Touch Me Next Time?
Claire Prescott turned her eyes to Keane Lowell and noticed his complexion didn’t look well.
But it was different from Assistant Cheney.
He seemed ill, with dark circles and weariness around his eyes.
"Are you feeling unwell?" she asked.
Keane Lowell seemed to find her unbelievable, "How did you figure it out?"
"Forgot I’m a traditional Chinese medicine doctor?" Claire leaned forward, gently took his hand, and placed it on the table, "Let me check your pulse."
Before she could adjust her position, the man blocked his pulse, holding her fingertips.
Claire Prescott looked up, meeting his deep eyes.
Keane Lowell spoke, "It’s just a cold."
Claire’s tone instinctively softened, "Did you get chilled last night?"
"Hmm."
"Did you take medicine?"
"I did."
Inexplicably obedient.
Claire released her hand, adjusted her chair to an angle facing him more closely, reaching out to touch his forehead, "You have a slight fever, if you catch a cold, put work aside, because health is most important."
Hearing this, Assistant Cheney picked up the laptop on the table and quietly left, leaving space for the two of them.
Claire’s gaze returned to Keane Lowell, always feeling he was hiding something about his illness.
But he wouldn’t let her take his pulse, and Claire didn’t want to force him.
Conflicted, she still felt uneasy and couldn’t help but recall the reunion when she checked his pulse...
He wouldn’t have a psychological shadow from that pulse check, would he?
"Actually, patients have no privacy in front of doctors, it’s normal. Don’t hide your illness, even if I know your secrets, I won’t spread them or laugh at you."
Her voice was soft, her eyes mixed with the color of mountains, particularly pure.
Keane Lowell smiled faintly, "Were you always this comforting to patients in the past?"
"This isn’t comforting, it’s persuading."
After a moment of silence, he said, "I’ll let you check once my cold is better."
"..." Claire was rendered speechless.
The more he avoided letting her see, the more curious she became about what he was hiding.
Suddenly, she grabbed his wrist.
Almost at the same moment, she was counter-controlled, a force pulled her up, an arm crossed her waist drawing her to his embrace, and she unexpectedly landed sitting on his lap.
Claire Prescott looked at him in panic.
She wanted to get up, but he gently pressed her back down with his large hand.
Through two layers of fabric, his body heat scorched her thighs, igniting her whole body with warmth.
"You..." Meeting that blazing, intense gaze, she fell silent, attempting to discern something from those deep eyes.
Unlike last night, now under the bright daylight, she could see him clearly.
See, during their ambiguous contact, those eyes seemed submerged in ink, incomprehensible yet invisibly drawing her gaze firmly.
Causing her heart to race suddenly.
Her face flushed with hues of red and white, soft gleams floating, her elegant demeanor enhanced by her lotus-colored pleated skirt to perfection, so pure and beautiful that it was impossible to look away.
All this reflected in Keane Lowell’s eyes, even her faint fragrance attracted him, coaxing him closer towards those delicate lips.
Yet, right then, the waiter inconveniently intruded. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶
Claire awkwardly dodged his kiss, frantically climbed off him, returning to her chair.
The rising emotions were scattered, the last thread of warmth lingering in Keane Lowell’s uniquely deep voice, "Will you dare to touch me again next time?"
What touching...
Speaking as if he was taken advantage of.
Claire avoided his gaze, speechless.
The waiter placed breakfast down and silently left, leaving the bright green courtyard once again with just the two of them.
Keane Lowell moved the milk in front of her and gently said, "Too light, eat more, replenish your nutrition."
Claire’s face blushed again, silently drank a sip of milk, and then picked out all the carrot shreds on her plate.
Seeing his gaze, Claire explained, "I don’t like carrots."
Then, all the carrot shreds on her plate moved to his, everything felt natural and seamless.
...
After they left the mountain, Shelby Thorne, locked in the room, was finally remembered.
She lay all night on the cold floor, her cries unanswered, her face sticky with tears, pitifully.
After being untied by the bodyguard, she continued to lie there without will, delicate ankles exposed with fierce red marks, visibly painful but already numb.
Spoiled from a young age, adored by many, she’d never suffered such grievance and humiliation, never imagined she’d be tied up for a night by someone she liked.
After a long time, she got up, tore the tape from her mouth, suddenly raised her hand, and fiercely slapped at the bodyguard in front of her.
But, she did not succeed, her wrist was caught by a rough hand in mid-air, the slap not landing on his face.
The bodyguard sneered, looking at her contemptuously, "Please find the right measure, Miss Thorne."
"Why? Why did he treat me this way?" she unyieldingly shouted.
The bodyguard kindly reminded, "Miss Thorne, your self-indulgent behavior from last night was a disturbance to the sir. You better not bother him anymore, this is his warning to you."
He continued, "Moreover, when you were following the sir last night, he already warned your Thorne Family once."
Bringing up the matter again.
Shelby Thorne was speechless.
Yet the more unattainable the man was, the itchier her heart grew.
No matter what he did to her.
...
In the alleyway, a black Maybach came to a steady stop in front of Sinclair Apothecary.
Claire Prescott turned to look at the man beside her, "The clinic is right here, aren’t you going to let me check your pulse?"
These words implied once gone there’s no returning.
She added, "If you don’t want me to know your condition, go see my grandfather inside."
"No need," Keane Lowell replied firmly, staring at her, "If you don’t get off, I won’t let you leave."
Claire went quiet, then swiftly undid her seatbelt and got out.
Yet she stood by the car door, not leaving, even leaving the door open.
To be honest, she was truly worried about him.
The more he hid, the more uneasy she felt, but..., what right did she have to manage him?
Just as she raised her hand to close the door, he came out, circled around the car, and stood in front of her, his dark eyes firmly captivating her.
"Worried about me?" His handsome face lacked color, yet his deep voice carried a tempting tone.
Claire Prescott slightly furrowed her brows, "If it’s just a common cold, why not let me see?"
Keane Lowell couldn’t help but indulge her, lifting his hand to let her see, "Go ahead."
Seeing his sudden generosity, Claire hesitated.
She heard him explain, "The fire burned strong last night, so I took a cold shower."
