Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 92: Why Don’t You Just Make Me Die of Anger
Her face instantly fell, pale to the extreme.
The surrounding rain seemed to trap her in impenetrable darkness, making her body gradually numb.
Facing those clear calm eyes, Skye Vance was a bit at a loss but still braved through to explain the situation just now, "Sorry, I’m a new driver, I just didn’t notice the car behind me changing lanes, which caused this accident, I hope none of you were hurt?"
"Is Miss Vance hard of hearing?" Claire Prescott said calmly, her voice mingled with the pitter-patter of rain, clear and penetrating to the ear.
Skye Vance was stunned, somewhat perplexed.
Claire saw her delicate cunningness clearly, "Since we plan to claim car insurance, Miss Vance should just get on with it, the road behind is already congested, didn’t you hear the honking?"
Upon hearing this.
Skye Vance instantly became clear-headed.
The brief and chaotic honking behind wasn’t solely a warning, it carried naked aggression and feelings of collapse and annoyance, a huge pressure swept in overwhelmingly, making her feel urgent and panic-stricken.
Claire kindly reminded, "It’s dark and rainy tonight, it’s best for Miss Vance, as a new driver, to drive slower, safety is the most important."
Skye Vance still blankly stared at her.
That face was gentle and serene, carrying a faint sense of oppression, making one feel she wasn’t weak or easy to bully.
Yet those eyes radiated bright allure, pure enough to render unforgettable.
Such temperament in the circle of flourishing beauties they belonged to was definitely an incomparable stream.
No wonder Keane Lowell often kept her by his side.
However, from her position, she could only see the corner of the man’s shirt.
Throughout, he hadn’t spoken, even though his complexion wasn’t visible, his presence could be felt.
Another few short honks, Skye Vance quivered with fright.
She took one last look at them, nodded apologetically, quickly returned to her car with her umbrella, and slowly drove away.
She watched the Maybach pass her car smoothly, gradually disappearing from her view.
She controlled the steering wheel, a dense sourness surfaced at her nose tip, instantly bursting into tears, blurring her entire view.
Perhaps, from the moment she fell for Keane Lowell, she had set foot on a path of no return, not knowing how to forget this man, nor how to remove him from her heart.
As soon as he appeared, the desire for him was stirred, even if he already had someone beside him, she could not resign, seemed addicted to liking him...
...
The car window slowly rose.
Claire turned her head, meeting the man’s eyes deep like a cold pond.
The lights outside flashed across him section by section, the rain at night made his silhouette particularly somber, giving a sense of stranger danger.
She bent to pick up the gift box fallen to the ground, wanting to open and inspect it, only to realize the man was still holding her wrist.
"President Lowell."
"You’re hurting me."
Keane Lowell lowered his gaze, restrainedly eased his grip, yet didn’t release.
Claire slowly withdrew her hand from his palm, opened the gift box to check if the hairpin was damaged.
Though unsure what material the two unevenly sized flowers on the pinhead were made of, they looked too delicate, easily breakable.
Fortunately, she put it back in time just now, with velvet cushioning inside, it remained intact.
She covered the box and set it nicely, saying to herself, "Assistant Cheney usually drives steadily, I think she deliberately changed lanes suddenly to cause an accident just to catch your attention, surely she’s not a new driver, don’t you agree?"
Her tone particularly calm, she didn’t look at him while speaking, her gaze without a focal point.
Keane Lowell silently watched her profile, not responding to her remarks.
Because any answer would be wrong.
"If my gift is broken, I’m definitely going to settle accounts with her, if I make the beauty cry, you wouldn’t blame me, would you?"
Finishing, Claire turned to observe his expression.
But Keane Lowell turned away, lowly said, "You might as well annoy me to death."
Claire was stunned, her eyes flickering.
Not understanding how she’s annoyed him.
Remembering he once mentioned, his grandmother liked listening to piano, frequently inviting Skye Vance to their home, acquaintances becoming friends through repeated interactions, certainly Skye had feelings with The Lowell Family.
If she bullied her, no telling if The Lowell Family would come after her.
Helplessly facing the man, she held his hand.
One of his hands was as cold as an ice block, a thin callus on the web between thumb and forefinger, yet the joints felt like jade, she passed warmth to him, softly asked, "How did I anger you?"
Keane Lowell turned, meeting her lively gaze, his expression slightly relaxed, "Think for yourself."
"Can’t figure it out, hence asked you."
Seeing the man’s face still cold, Claire felt a bit helpless, fell silent, inexplicably sour inside.
A while later.
In the quiet car cabin, the man’s low voice suddenly sounded.
"What’s my relationship with you, what’s hers, why would I stand on her side?"
Claire opened her eyes, as if a light beam shone in.
She turned to see the man’s noble stern profile, "Not wishing to see the beauty cry, does that count as a reason?"
Keane Lowell captured the laughter in her eyes.
Repeated provocation evidently intentional.
He subtly tugged the corner of his mouth, his gaze suddenly turned deep and mysterious, voice magnetic and dangerous, "Tonight, I want to make you cry."
Claire’s smile instantly faded.
She cautiously released the man’s hand, dared not speak, becoming docile.
Seemingly staying quiet like this would dispel his intention.
However.
Upon reaching the villa, before changing shoes, her waist was seized and pinned against the wall, the man’s lips took over, sealing hers.
Claire was forced to endure his presence, heart pounding like drums, as if a fawn raced in her chest, wanting to burst out.
The feeling wasn’t pleasant.
She pressed against the man’s shoulder, pushed hard, only to have both hands restrained, raised high above her head, crossed and pinned against the wall.
"I..., uh..."
Scorching kisses descended, not granting a chance for rejection.
However.
Only intended to intimidate her.
Kissing, Keane Lowell gradually eased his restraint, unconsciously turned gentle.
He leaned in, lifting her, kissing while laying her on the sofa, lingeringly kissed her lips, nose, then cheeks.
Finally lingering on her lips.
Claire’s heart was stirred up and down by his tenderness, completely lost to his charm.
Suddenly recalling something.
She instantly sobered, "Auntie Susan... she’s here."
"She’s not." Keane pressed against her forehead, asked, "Hungry?"
Claire softly replied, "I’m okay." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢
"Finish then have dinner?"
...
