Tempting Him to Lose Control

Chapter 28: Chapter 28: Cared For All Night Long

"ZZZZIP—" Miles Warren zipped it up tight.

Claire Kendall snorted. "Stingy."

Outside, the rain grew heavier and showed no signs of stopping. Miles Warren sat at the table, looking down at his phone.

There was only one bed, and the floor was covered in muddy water, so no one could sleep there.

Claire Kendall spoke up. "Dr. Warren, I’ll sleep on the inside. You can take the outside."

His finger, which had been swiping across the screen, stopped. After a long moment, he finally hummed in assent.

A little spark of triumph flared in Claire Kendall’s heart. She obediently scooted to the very inside of the bed, lay down on her side, and left herself the smallest sliver of space. Then, she closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep.

In the darkness, he walked to the bed and lay down very gently, keeping to the very edge.

The wooden plank bed was pitifully narrow, and their bodies inevitably pressed together.

Even through their clothes, she could clearly feel his body heat—it was scorching.

Sharing a bed for the first time, Claire Kendall felt her nerves tense up.

Carefully, ever so slowly, she rolled over. Then, she deliberately let her right arm slip and drape across Miles Warren’s waist, holding him tight.

Even through his jacket, she felt his body instantly go rigid and his temperature suddenly spike.

’Success.’

Claire Kendall kept her body relaxed as if she were asleep, even letting out an indistinct mumble.

Her act was convincing.

His body was tense as iron, his breathing heavy.

In the darkness, the corners of her lips curved into a triumphant smile.

But somewhere in the middle of her act, she actually fell asleep...

Miles Warren felt the softness of her arm.

His body stiffened, growing even more tense. A searing heat flooded his mind, making it nearly impossible for him to think rationally.

In the darkness, he turned his head to look at her, an unquenchable fire burning in his eyes.

When morning came, Claire Kendall groggily awoke.

"Awake?" Miles Warren sat up, the bed planks groaning. "Sleep well?"

After her little stunt, her face felt hot. She stammered, "Mhm... I slept well."

After washing up, the two of them walked out of the wooden house. In the courtyard, many of the doctors were busy hanging clothes out to dry.

Rosalind Linden saw Claire Kendall and chuckled.

"Finished getting your wound re-bandaged, Ms. Kendall?"

"Miles is just too soft-hearted. He helps anyone he sees who’s injured. He was the same way back in medical school—he’d even bring back stray cats and dogs he found hurt on the side of the road."

Several of the younger doctors glanced over, their ears pricked for gossip.

She didn’t look at Rosalind Linden. Instead, she tilted her head slightly to look at the man beside her.

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for everyone nearby to hear. It was tinged with the softness of someone who had just woken up, along with a faint, almost imperceptible hint of grievance.

"So, Dr. Warren, are you really this soft-hearted with everyone?"

She deliberately stressed the words "soft-hearted," her eyelashes trembling faintly.

"So last night... taking care of me all night... I must have been a huge bother for you, right?"

She didn’t specify what happened last night, but her hesitant tone, trailing off suggestively, was enough to conjure all sorts of romantic images in people’s minds.

Rosalind Linden was so furious her lips trembled. She looked at Miles Warren, hoping he would refute Claire’s implications.

But the man just turned his head slightly to look at her.

’How could he not see through her little scheme?’

’She was like a little kitten, tentatively extending its claws, yet afraid of being rejected by its owner.’

Miles Warren said nothing, but a faint, indulgent smile flickered in the depths of his otherwise calm eyes.

Although the rain had stopped, the situation in Wexall Village was dire.

The downpour had been too heavy. The goods at The Wexall Textile Mill were all soaked. Cole had led the villagers in a salvage effort, but they still lost over half of their finished products.

Claire Kendall walked forward.

"You have the nerve to show your face here? Whenever the Sinclair Group gets involved, nothing good ever happens to Wexall Village!"

Cole’s eyes were bloodshot. "Our village hasn’t had rain this heavy in years! It’s all your fault, you’re a jinx!"

"The cotton yarn we just brought in, and several of our machines... that’s our livelihood! How are we supposed to feed ourselves now? What are we going to do?!"

Overcome with emotion, he collapsed onto the ground with a THUD and began to wail.

The villagers rushed to help him up, every one of them glaring viciously at Claire Kendall.

Rosalind Linden added fuel to the fire. "Ms. Kendall, the workers at the mill are all getting on in years. They don’t want to cooperate with you, so why must the Sinclair Group insist on meddling?"

"That’s right!"

"We’re not cooperating! To hell with your cooperation!"

"The Sinclair company is just a bunch of crooks!"

Claire Kendall tried to explain, but no one paid her any mind.

A voice, not loud but clear, cut through the crowd.

"The rain is a natural disaster; it has nothing to do with her. She wasn’t sent by the Sinclair Group to discuss an acquisition. She’s here to help you improve the mill."

"If you trust me, then you should trust her."

Miles Warren’s voice left no room for doubt.

The villagers all looked toward the doctor who often came to give them free check-ups, and the crowd quieted down.

Claire Kendall nodded and quickly explained, "I really am a designer."

"Yesterday, I saw the products woven by the village elders. The quality is excellent. If we just update the patterns and marketing methods, the mill can definitely thrive again."

"Dr. Warren, you’re a good man, and we all believe you, but this young lady..." the village chief said worriedly. "What can she possibly do to help our mill?"

Claire Kendall waded through a puddle, entered the mill, and sat down at a loom that was still barely functional.

Her right hand was injured, so she propped her right elbow on the tabletop and operated the machine with her left hand.

Rosalind Linden snorted. "What kind of stunt is she trying to pull now?"

Claire Kendall kept her head lowered. Even using only her left hand, her movements were surprisingly steady. As the machine pressed down on the cotton thread, she guided a hook through with practiced precision.

An exquisitely intricate pattern began to form on an ordinary towel, her movements as smooth as flowing water.

All the weavers in the mill held their breath. They didn’t understand high-level design, but having spent their entire lives working with thread, they could tell at a glance that the young woman before them was an expert in the craft.

She handed the piece with the finished pattern to the village chief. "Chief, I’m not a liar, and I never intended to ruin this mill. The Sinclair Group may look down on these old machines, but I, Claire Kendall, see their value."

"I want to pair the cloth from The Wexall Textile Mill with the right designs and embroidery and see it sold in major department stores again."

Claire Kendall’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was exceptionally firm.

"I will personally cover the losses for all the cloth ruined by the flood today. I won’t let the elders’ hard work go to waste."

Those words shattered Cole’s last line of defense.

His voice trembled.

"Ms. Kendall, we were in the wrong earlier. We’re just... we’re just scared after being cheated by the Sinclair family. They came here saying they wanted to order our cloth, but they took advantage of me being illiterate. I signed the contract without really knowing what it said, and we ended up working for them for years for nothing. We didn’t make a single cent..."

"I’ve let everyone in the village down! All that’s left in Wexall Village are old folks whose children are gone. This craft is all we have to support ourselves."

Claire Kendall lowered her gaze. ’No wonder they’re so hostile towards the Sinclair Group.’

’So Sinclair Design built its fortune on the backs of the people of Wexall Village.’

"Don’t worry. Moonstone has no intention of replacing The Wexall Textile Mill’s established name in this partnership."

Claire Kendall discussed a few more partnership details with the village chief. The most urgent matter was repairing the mill’s infrastructure, which would require a significant investment. Claire knew she would have to find a solution.

The roar of an engine suddenly cut through the air, and an SUV pulled to a stop.

All eyes turned to look.

A young man jumped out, opened the trunk, and revealed it was packed with water and other essential supplies.

Ian Rhodes waved at Claire Kendall. "Senior!"

Seeing him, Miles Warren’s gaze instantly darkened.

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