Tempting Him to Lose Control

Chapter 62: Chapter 62: I Admit, I Did Touch You

Miles Warren froze at her bold and suggestive words, his fingers pausing on the tube of ointment.

His intense gaze swept across her pampered-looking face.

"Keep talking nonsense and you can apply this yourself."

Claire pouted unhappily, her complaint tinged with a nasal whine.

"How was that nonsense? Clearly, Dr. Warren, you’re the one with your mind in the gutter."

"I was talking about my calf, not... down there, was I?"

As she spoke, she lifted her pant leg to show him. Sure enough, there was a red patch on her calf as well.

Her lips curved into a suggestive smile. "Dr. Warren, you weren’t thinking about last night, were you?"

"I mean, I *did* touch your..." she continued, completely unfiltered in the confined space.

"Shut up."

Miles Warren’s voice was cold, but his ears were beet red.

After a moment’s pause, he suddenly asked coldly, "Are you still planning on going out to eat with that junior?"

"I..." Claire’s bravado instantly vanished.

’Never again.’ She tried to sound nonchalant, but in reality, the itching was becoming unbearable.

Even after applying the ointment and taking some Loratadine, Claire was still itching terribly.

She lay on the examination table, tossing and turning, rubbing against the sheets and whimpering softly.

Seeing her state, Miles went to the dispensary to get an ice pack. "Lift up your clothes. Applying some ice will help."

As if anticipating her, he quickly added,

"Only show me what’s necessary."

Claire: ’Do I really seem that shameless to him?’

He carefully placed the ice pack on the areas where the allergic reaction was most severe, rubbing it gently as he spoke in a low voice.

"The preparations for your mother’s surgery are nearly complete. She can go in tomorrow, on Monday."

When discussing her condition, his voice became professional and steady.

"I’ll be the lead surgeon, and Jonathan Keller will be my first assistant. I’ll bring you the surgical risk disclosure and consent forms to sign tomorrow."

Claire nodded.

’Jonathan Keller was a director-level physician, perfectly capable of performing surgery on his own, mentoring students, and conducting research. For him to agree to be a first assistant, Miles must have been the one who asked.’

’He had gone to great lengths for her mother’s sake.’

Her eyelashes fluttered. "Miles, thank you."

He just hummed a low acknowledgment and said nothing more.

The next morning, Claire was put on an IV drip, and her allergic reaction finally subsided.

At 8:00 AM, Shirley Kendall was wheeled into the operating room.

Claire looked at her mother, her palms growing damp. "Mom, you’ll just take a little nap, and it’ll be over before you know it."

But Shirley Kendall was quite relaxed. "Silly child, don’t be so nervous. Mom’s life has been full just by having you."

The rims of her eyes reddened against her will.

She had waited three years for this surgery.

Miles, dressed in scrubs, stood just inside the doors. He gave her a nod before the doors slid slowly shut.

The red light above the operating room door flicked on, its crimson glow jarring.

Even though he was the one operating, Claire was still on pins and needles.

"Miles is operating on your mom. What’s there for you to worry about?"

"Claire Kendall, the fact that he’s the lead surgeon is something you should be thanking me for."

A grating voice cut in from behind. Rosalind Linden had appeared at some point, her face a mask of arrogance and triumph as her eyes swept dismissively over Claire.

Her tone was condescending, laced with command.

"Claire Kendall, once your mom’s surgery is over, leave Aethel General Hospital immediately. Don’t contact Miles again, and stop dreaming!"

’So what if she’s the one he never got over? After so many years, Miles still ended up wrapped around her little finger.’

"Miles is *my* boyfriend!" Rosalind raised her voice, warning her off.

"Oh?" Claire couldn’t be bothered to engage. "He could be your father for all I care. It has nothing to do with me."

"You..." Rosalind was furious.

’She was absolutely seething.’

’Miles had slept with her. That man was hers now.’

’Wasn’t Claire supposed to be in love with him, constantly chasing him? So how dare she act so cool and unbothered now!’

’She searched Claire’s face for any sign of a crack in her composure, but there was nothing. Not a single trace.’

’She felt no thrill of victory, only a suffocating frustration.’

"Dr. Linden, you of all people should know this is a restricted area. Loud disturbances are prohibited near the operating rooms. Do I need to call security to mediate?"

Unwilling to suffer that public humiliation, Rosalind gritted her teeth and stalked away.

As she turned away, a cold smirk touched her lips.

’Since you don’t appreciate my generosity and refuse to leave quietly, then don’t blame me for what comes next.’

Five hours later, the red "SURGERY IN PROGRESS" light finally went dark, and the doors slid open.

Miles looked exhausted but his expression was calm. "Don’t worry, the surgery was a success. Her vitals are all stable. She’ll need to be monitored in the ICU for a week."

The weight that had been pressing on Claire’s chest for hours finally lifted.

Her voice was thick with emotion, her eyes welling up.

"Miles, thank you..."

Miles just looked at her, saying nothing more.

"I have to write up the post-op notes. There’s dedicated staff in the ICU, so you can go home and get some rest."

Claire went to the ICU and stood watch through the glass doors for a long time.

After three years of struggle, the dust had finally settled.

Claire didn’t leave until evening.

She went to Miles’s office, just as Jonathan Keller was stepping out.

"Shh," Jonathan Keller gestured to her. "He just fell asleep. It was a difficult operation, and he was on edge for five straight hours. Let him rest."

Claire nodded and whispered, "Okay."

She tiptoed inside.

Miles was fast asleep on the cot in his office.

His breathing was shallow, and his brow was furrowed with exhaustion.

Claire sat beside him, just watching him.

Her gaze traced the lines of his face, from his forehead to the bridge of his nose, down to his chin...

She suddenly remembered the question Ian Rhodes had asked her.

’Did she chase him because she liked him?’

’At first, it had all been a calculation. She was the hunter, weaving a web with painstaking effort, only to get caught in it herself.’

’The attraction was a slow, ardent burn, spreading silently through the depths of her heart.’

’Claire just didn’t understand. Why was Miles pushing her away?’

A thousand different ideas flashed through Claire’s mind.

’Could it be? Does Dr. Warren just like the thrill of the chase? Does he want to prolong this grand, ambiguous phase forever? But isn’t this ’ambiguous phase’ getting a little too long?’

As she mulled it over, her arm, which had been propping up her head, kept slipping. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

By the time she woke up, it was late at night.

The first thing she saw was a field of white. She found herself lying on a bed, the blanket beneath her soft and comfortable. The faint scent of disinfectant drifted into her nose.

"Slept your fill?"

Miles was sitting by the bed. His shift over, he had changed into casual clothes, and his whole demeanor seemed much softer.

Claire propped herself up, her eyes still hazy with sleep. She shook her head. "How did I fall asleep?"

Miles’s tone was one of resignation, yet it was tinged with a hint of affection.

"Because you were sleeping—sprawled all over me."

She gave an embarrassed little pout.

But Miles quickly steadied her, speaking softly. "You don’t have to move. Keep sleeping."

Claire shifted to the side, trying to make a little room.

She patted the spot, her tone laced with disappointment. "This bed is still a little too small, you know. Not nearly as good as the one in that hotel break room~"

She paused, then added, "That one had more room for... activities."

Miles: ... ’He was truly at a loss with her.’

She stared at Miles without blinking, then after a moment’s thought, said in a serious tone,

"Dr. Warren, I could just lie on top of you. That would save space, and we could sleep together."

Miles put a hand to his forehead. The more he engaged, the more outrageous she became.

"If you’re not going to sleep, then get up."

’Was that position she was suggesting *really* for getting a good night’s sleep?’

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