Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go Chapter 72: Stirred Feelings 1

Watching them each fixated on their device, Keane Lowell tily called out, "No more playing, let’s eat."

Auntie Susan had been standing quietly in the corner, observing.

At first glance, she found the young lady excessively beautiful and charming, her long hair braided into a neat plait draped over her shoulder, and her face clean and fair, like a bright moon, gentle and moving.

Upon closer inspection, her eyes inadvertently revealed a gleaming brilliance and purity, imparting a serene and beautiful feeling.

No wonder the master asked her to prepare dishes not often cooked; it was all for her.

When she t her gaze, Auntie Susan couldn’t help but smile, radiating a gentle loving warmth she herself didn’t notice.

She no longer intruded on their private world, silently retreating outside the living room.

A round, luxurious stone dining table, polished spotless, and upon seeing the tableful of dishes, Claire Prescott felt a bit conflicted.

Because these were all her favorites, yet it seed they weren’t particularly light; the crispy chicken he couldn’t eat at all.

Thus, she couldn’t help but sarcastically remark, "So people know they can’t eat strong flavors, yet still ask Auntie to cook them, treating my morning’s advice as re noise."

Upon hearing this.

Keane paused his actions.

The piece of at he’d just picked up was snatched away by her.

Then she rinsed the at several tis in the clear broth before placing it back in his bowl, carefully advising, "Wait a bit before eating it."

Such considerate care left him at a loss.

"Not that delicate," he responded.

Claire blurted out, "Being delicate is nurtured by ; I’ll take responsibility for you."

After speaking, it seed sothing was amiss, and as she raised her eyes, she t his deep gaze.

A smoky gray shirt accentuated those particularly profound eyes, even though the crystal chandelier cast light upon him, there were emotions she couldn’t decipher.

Despite having a wounded lip, he still appeared so noble and composed, untouched by dust.

She hurriedly shifted her words: "I was just casually speaking, don’t take it to heart."

Keane smiled: "Don’t want to take responsibility for ?"

"No," Claire murmured, bowing her head, quietly rinsing the food until it was almost cool, placing it in his bowl, silently completing these actions.

Keane stared straight at her serene and elegant face, her gentle ticulous gestures, for a mont feeling as if ti slowed down, like an echoing distant lody carrying her presence and soul towards him.

And they wouldn’t walk towards any endpoint.

He hesitated in speaking, finally deciding it was best to eat without speaking, lest he be inadvertently drawn into deep waters by her again... otherwise, they would hardly finish the al.

After dinner.

After Auntie Susan tidied everything up, she was nowhere to be seen, leaving only the two of them and the chanical dog.

The chanical dog, its screen dark, quietly resting in the corner, seemingly dormant unless watched.

It seed quite well-behaved.

Claire pulled him onto the sofa, preparing to apply dicine to him.

Holding a cotton swab dipped in iodine, she raised the man’s chin, carefully eyeing his lower lip.

Eating would inevitably touch the lips, and now the wound was a little red and swollen with so blood threads, reflecting on this, she regretted biting him last night.

She lifted her eyes to et his gaze, couldn’t help admonishing softly, "This wound’s pretty hard to heal here; these days, you should still be careful with eating."

As she spoke, she wasn’t aware of the compassion unconsciously revealed in her gaze towards him.

And Keane took in every subtle expression she made.

Especially when his chin was lifted by her, at that mont, he indeed felt like a delicate beauty before her...

Seeing him staring silently, unaware of what he was thinking, or if he’d heard her advice.

Yet, faintly sensing a familiar, intense heat beneath those deep-set eyes.

Claire was montarily stunned, calmly pinching his chin gently.

Just as she was about to apply the dicine, her wrist was suddenly grasped by him, and then the cotton swab in her hand fell to the floor.

Not waiting for her to react, he pulled her hands behind her back, kissing her lips fiercely.

Claire instantly widened her eyes, "You..."

Just as she opened her mouth, he slid in seamlessly, turning her words into a lodic tone.

He captured her left hand and intertwined it with her right, pinning them behind her.

With his strength, she instinctively leaned forward, sticking closely to him, feeling an overwhelming lack of security.

His breath pressured her like a tidal wave, the taste of blood spreading unchecked.

Claire frowned, struggling to break free from his hold, suddenly rising, losing her balance, and stumbling onto him, a knee inadvertently buried between his legs.

Passing by, he let out a muffled sound.

The tension instantly exploded.

Claire’s heart skipped a beat, hurriedly lowering her head for a glance.

She quickly supported the sofa back behind him, moving her knee away, anxiously asking, "Is... everything okay?"

Keane soon regained composure, his eyes thick like ink, bottomlessly deep.

Again, it was her knee stirring trouble...

"What do you think?" His low tone carried a hint of accusation.

Claire’s face flushed with confused anxiety.

Recalling just now, though separated by fabric, her knee’s touch wasn’t strong, rely grazing, it shouldn’t have caused injury.

So she softly muttered, "It’s good if you’re alright."

"..." Keane’s deep gaze rested on her, utterly helpless.

The feeling was overwhelmingly fatal, like a tingling electric current sweeping across, causing a strong reflexive reaction when least expected.

Claire felt a guilty conscience, having done sothing wrong, but she hadn’t intended to.

Wanting to escape, he didn’t allow it.

One hand encircled her waist, the other spread her legs, seating her upon his lap.

She wore the white dress he’d prepared, the skirt tightly covering their situation, her face blossoming with a blush, soft as if water could be pinched out.

The montarily dissipated desire stealthily reignited in their locked gaze.

Doing nothing more, simply silently staring at each other.

Gradually.

She seed to understand the aning behind the look she couldn’t decipher earlier.

If she hadn’t guessed wrong,

——He craved her.

Realizing this, Claire’s heart burned fiercely, and yet his face remained particularly handso, alluring, with an invisible force magnetically drawing her closer.

She couldn’t help herself, leaning over, gently kissing away the blood from his lips.

Following his lead, naturally indulging him, disregarding his wound, only to be t with an even more passionate kiss.

Though she had learned to breathe, she couldn’t stand his affectionate intensity.

As if he captured her heart, scorching, breathless, faintly uncomfortable, her whole body turning soft...