Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 88: Wrong Guess

Earlier, she was lost in thought and forgot to bring clothes when she showered.

Thinking that Keane was still working in the study and wouldn’t come in soon, she walked out of the bathroom with just a bathrobe without any burden.

However.

She clutched her bathrobe all the way to the wardrobe and just as she grasped the handle, the sound of the door opening suddenly echoed.

She was so startled that her whole body trembled, her heartstrings tightening.

Upon seeing the figure of the man appearing before her, she instantly heard the sound of those strings snapping.

Claire Prescott instinctively tightened her grip on the bathrobe.

Her long hair hung loosely, just barely covering her exposed, pristine white shoulders. Yet, under those eyes, she felt as if she were wearing nothing.

As he approached, her heart uncontrollably tensed, but she still pretended to face him calmly: "Are you done with work?"

The man stood right in front of her, barely two fists apart.

He said nothing, silently watching her, his deep eyes carrying a faint sense of pressure and danger.

Claire instinctively took half a step back, her entire back pressing against the wardrobe door, the cold surface against her skin making her shiver.

"Why aren’t you saying anything?" she couldn’t help but ask.

"It’s Sunday tomorrow, a day off?"

Claire was a bit confused, but she still nodded and responded, "Hmm."

Then.

A hand, with prominent veins, rested against her cheek.

Claire slightly lifted her head to look at him, meeting his obscure, unreadable gaze.

In its depth, there was a faint warmth.

"Do you want to kiss me?" she voiced out, her tone carrying certainty.

Because before he kissed her, he would always look at her like this.

Keane’s lips curled into a slight smile, staring into those clear, fresh eyes.

Fresh out of the bath, her skin was as smooth and delicate as a peeled egg, pure and yet unrefined, easily igniting desire for her.

"Guess wrong."

"I want to do more."

The rich, magnetic voice fell.

The man lowered his head, his fingertip gently resting under her chin, holding her slender waist, he kissed her tenderly.

Claire’s face instantly turned a burning red, her heart pounding fiercely against her chest, completely disrupting her rhythm.

His kiss was so gentle, more gentle than ever, as if trying to melt her heart.

The bathrobe slipped off her body with a gentle tug, sensually falling to the floor as his hands lovingly adhered once more, lifting her onto the bed...

...

The next day.

Claire slowly woke in his arms.

Today was a rest day, so last night’s unrestrained tenderness, torture, again and again...to the extreme.

Her entire body was infused with his scent and temperature, and despite a whole night having passed, that scent lingered enticingly, drawing her back into the echoes of last night.

She turned over, her blurry vision filled with his prominent collarbone, half-veiled under his pajama.

Following that, his low, sleepy voice sounded, "Awake?"

Claire didn’t reply, quietly nestled closer, hugging him.

Keane nestled her closer into his embrace, soothingly stroking her hair, "Sleep a bit more."

His voice, gentle and low, lulled her back into dreams within seconds.

Her nap lasted until half-past twelve.

When she opened her eyes, Keane was no longer beside her.

Staring at the ceiling for a moment, she then sat up, the collar of her white shirt slipping down her left shoulder, draping casually on her body, pure yet tempting.

Keane pushed open the door and entered, observing her lethargic demeanor.

He approached the bed and sat down, adjusting her shirt collar.

Even though there were pajamas of hers in the bedroom, she didn’t understand why he liked having her wear his clothes...

Claire lazily wrapped her arms around his neck, murmuring, "Carry me to the bathroom."

Without any hesitation.

Keane lifted the covers, cradled her in his arms horizontally, and steadily made his way toward the bathroom.

She hadn’t even put on shoes.

Claire washed up while stepping on his feet.

Perhaps compensating for last night’s indulgence, the man was willing to do anything for her, exhausting all his gentleness and patience.

Dignified and exceptional, holding a high position, unattainable, no matter what label was attributed to him, it was undisputable and irreplaceable.

The only woman wasn’t.

Sometimes, it felt as though she was exclusively cherished by him, like an ephemeral dream, making it feel a little unreal.

Perhaps because he stood so high up, it seemed like he was far away, and no matter how hard she tried, she could never reach his level.

Now, just a novice Chinese medicine practitioner, maybe she would become an experienced one someday...

But, it still wouldn’t be enough.

Claire turned to him, clinging to him, and as he naturally embraced her, she lightly kissed his cheek.

Keane paused for a moment.

Then he carried her out of the bathroom.

When it came to dressing up, Claire bid him to head downstairs.

Keane chuckled, "There’s nothing on you I haven’t seen."

Claire flushed a bit red, ultimately unable to resist such blunt words.

Her voice softly insisted, "Just wait downstairs for me."

Understanding the young woman’s shyness, Keane didn’t say more, placing a kiss on her forehead before turning and leaving the room.

Lingering for a bit longer.

She put on the clothes he chose for her, styled a gentle side bun in front of the mirror, and secured it with a simple hairpin.

Downstairs.

She saw him sitting on the sofa, using a computer named Chloe.

He nonchalantly exited the interface, holding the person who sat down on his lap, and asked in a deep, warm voice, "Shall we stay home today, or do you want to go out?"

Claire looked out through the French windows at the intense, scorching sunlight, "Let’s stay home."

Summer has arrived, it’s too hot outside, not suitable for going out.

Thus.

Keane stayed home the entire day.

However, he didn’t stay by her side the entire time.

After taking her around the villa, showing her the structure and the entertainment facilities, he went into the study alone.

He seemed quite busy today.

Claire didn’t disturb him, and in the afternoon, she suddenly remembered a case from yesterday and wanted to use the computer named Chloe to look up some information.

Upon logging in.

A page automatically popped up, displaying previous search records.

In the search bar was the line:

[What does it mean if my girlfriend likes to kiss my face?]

Claire was momentarily stunned, her cheeks faintly heating.

It was obvious whose search history it was.

How curious could he be about the meaning of kissing a cheek, wasn’t it obvious what it meant...

She came back to her senses, skimming the smart replies below:

[If your girlfriend likes to kiss your face, it’s usually a way of expressing affection and closeness. Cheek-kissing is a tender, intimate gesture indicating she enjoys spending time with you, and feels assured and dependent.]

[You can respond to her kiss with warmth and care, gently hugging her, or kissing her forehead, reciprocating your affection...]

Recalling his earlier behavior.

Claire’s face flushed red all at once.