Tempting Him to Lose Control

Chapter 31: Chapter 31: This Is the Pure and Noble Dr. Warren?

Inside the club, the uproar came to a sudden halt.

Jacob Sinclair’s face was ashen, his eyes churning with a terrifying rage.

"Are you all fucking blind? Is your head full of nothing but this filthy shit?"

The rich kids who had been gossiping over their phones blanched. "Mr. Sin—Mr. Sinclair, we were just joking..."

"Joking?" Jacob Sinclair strode forward, grabbed the man by the collar, and smashed a bottle of imported liquor over his head with his other hand.

Blood streamed from the man’s head as his phone clattered to the floor. The video was still playing; the woman in it wore a radiant smile, so beautiful it was impossible to look away.

He stomped on the phone. "That’s my woman. You think you have the right to joke about her?"

Jacob Sinclair stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

In the limited-edition Maybach, Jacob Sinclair leaned back in the rear seat and irritably loosened his tie, unable to shake the knot of frustration tightening in his chest.

Every glance, every movement Claire Kendall made in the video replayed endlessly in his mind.

So vibrant and full of life, so brilliant and dazzling—but none of it was for him.

’How dare she look so happy after leaving me!’

Jacob Sinclair pulled out his phone and dialed Claire Kendall’s number.

A cold, robotic voice came from the other end.

"The number you have dialed is currently switched off."

Undeterred, Jacob Sinclair sent a WhatsApp message, only for a red exclamation mark to pop up.

’Claire Kendall blocked him? How dare she!’

He gripped his phone tightly, an unprecedented feeling of losing control creeping into his heart.

His eyes turned sinister as he dialed his assistant’s number.

Regency Gardens.

After returning from Wexall Village, Claire Kendall took off her clothes, padded barefoot into the bathroom, and took a quick shower.

The gauze bandage on her arm was wet and needed to be changed.

She picked up her phone and sent a message to Miles Warren.

[Dr. Warren, are you there?]

His reply came quickly.

[Here.]

Claire Kendall’s lips curled into a cunning smile, like a little fox. She got up and rang the doorbell for apartment 501.

The door opened quickly. Miles Warren was dressed in gray loungewear, his black hair messy and slightly damp.

He had just gotten out of the shower and smelled of fresh body wash.

Claire Kendall wiggled her arm, her voice soft. "Dr. Warren, it got wet. Could you help me change it?"

The man nodded and stepped aside to let her in.

Claire Kendall familiarly slipped on the pair of women’s slippers and sat down on the sofa.

Miles Warren opened a new roll of bandages and knelt before her, lowering his head to unwrap the gauze.

Her eyelashes fluttered. While he was changing the dressing, she leaned forward, closing the distance between them in an instant.

She wasn’t here just to get her bandage changed.

She was here to seduce him.

Claire Kendall was wearing a silk slip dress with a cardigan draped loosely over it. Now, the cardigan had slipped off one shoulder, revealing a patch of snowy skin and her delicate collarbone.

Miles Warren’s gaze lingered on her shoulder for a moment, but he didn’t call her out on it.

"The wound is almost healed. You still need to be careful with it for a while."

But Claire Kendall refused to behave.

Her fingertips brushed against his arm. Through the thin fabric of his loungewear, she could feel the taut lines of his muscles.

Once, twice...

Miles Warren’s hands, busy wrapping the gauze, paused. He gently took hold of her wrist, his voice low and slightly hoarse.

"Don’t mess around."

A triumphant smile touched Claire Kendall’s lips. She was about to press her advantage when she heard the sound of a keycode being entered at the door.

Immediately after, the door was pushed open, and a boisterous group of people flooded in.

"Miles, you didn’t reply to my WhatsApp message, but everyone insisted on coming to thank you," Jonathan Keller said. "So I just brought them all up."

Behind him was the group of young doctors who had gone on the medical mission to Wexall Village with them.

"Wow, Dr. Warren’s place is huge!"

The chatter died abruptly.

Everyone froze in the doorway, staring dumbfounded at the scene in the living room.

Miles Warren was holding one of Claire Kendall’s arms. The same man who was always aloof and unapproachable at the hospital, like a cool breeze on a clear day, was now kneeling before her.

Rosalind Linden’s smile froze on her face. Her eyes fell on the only pair of women’s slippers in the apartment—on Claire Kendall’s feet—and her fingers tightened around the plastic bag she was holding, her knuckles turning white.

A dead silence fell.

Jonathan Keller was the first to recover, breaking the silence with a laugh. "Ah, so it’s Miles’s life-saver."

Claire Kendall immediately pulled her cardigan back into place and stood up, putting distance between herself and Miles Warren.

"Dr. Warren was just helping me change my dressing."

She explained willingly. She might be trying to seduce him, but she didn’t want people from the hospital to get the wrong idea about Miles Warren.

"Ms. Kendall, long time no see," greeted one of the interns who had eaten her congee before, smiling brightly.

"Don’t just stand there, everyone. Weren’t we going to have hot pot? Come on in." Rosalind Linden opened the shoe cabinet and began handing out slippers, acting for all the world like the lady of the house.

A few colleagues responded, changing into slippers and heading toward the kitchen with the ingredients they’d brought.

Claire Kendall stood up. "I’ll help."

"Your wound hasn’t healed yet..." Miles Warren started to protest.

"It won’t affect my arm." Claire Kendall walked into the kitchen and skillfully started trimming and washing the vegetables.

A few of the doctors gathered around, unable to resist praising her.

"Claire, you’re amazing! I can tell you cook often!"

"Ms. Kendall is graceful in the drawing room and skilled in the kitchen. Didn’t you see that video? The one of her dancing under the old tree in Wexall Village? So many people on my social feed reshared it."

Claire Kendall smiled. "I was just dancing for fun. It only got views because of Wexall Village’s Flowing Light Brocade."

Standing at the kitchen entrance, Rosalind Linden looked up, her nails digging into her palms.

"Yes, Ms. Kendall is certainly multi-talented," she said, her voice soft but laced with acidity. "As doctors, our hands are for holding scalpels. My father always tells me that in this line of work, there’s no room for the slightest distraction."

As soon as she said it, the kitchen fell silent for a moment.

It made the doctors still busy with the vegetables feel incredibly awkward, but they didn’t dare to argue back.

After all, her father was the hospital director.

Claire Kendall finished cutting the last potato and wiped her hands.

"There’s a right place for everything. In the hospital, you save lives. But in the kitchen, we’re all just cooks, you know?"

It was a skillful deflection, and everyone instantly felt more at ease, nodding in agreement.

Miles Warren walked in from the living room and took the vegetables from Claire Kendall’s hands. "All of you, get out. It’s getting smoky in here."

He glanced at the gauze on Claire Kendall’s arm. "Be careful. Go sit down."

Miles Warren then turned to Jonathan Keller, who was preparing the hot pot base.

"Her wound is still healing, so she can’t have anything spicy. Prepare a non-spicy broth."

"Alright, alright. Our great Dr. Warren is so considerate..."

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