Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 189: Who’s the One Being Improper Here

Chapter 189: Chapter 189: Who’s the One Being Improper Here

It wasn’t until she got back in the car that she slowly came to her senses.

It was like watching an indescribable movie scene, leaving her a bit breathless.

Remembering that moment again.

It still felt a little unbelievable.

She didn’t even notice when the car started moving.

"What are you daydreaming about?" Keane Lowell’s deep, magnetic voice emerged.

He observed her absent-minded face and spoke with a hint of meaning, "We’ve kissed like that too."

At those words.

Claire Prescott found it even harder to handle.

At this moment, she couldn’t bear to hear him say such things.

Yet what he said was indeed true.

As she placed herself into the situation, she had to admit that in love, people seem to change, becoming unlike themselves.

All of it boiled down to the affection intertwined between them.

When the feelings become intense, the body stops listening to reason, leading to irrational actions, wishing they could merge into each other.

Also.

Such kisses happen during arguments.

She turned to look at Keane Lowell’s elegant and dignified face, assertively saying, "Don’t compare us to others, and don’t imitate others in love."

Keane Lowell’s thin lips curved slightly, caressing her fingers, indulgently responding, "It’s up to you."

...

At Azure Court.

Claire Prescott, focused on drinking, got out of the car, took Keane Lowell’s hand, and led him straight to the wall-mounted wine cabinet.

Various kinds of wine were displayed there, packaged to look expensive, with their colors appearing seductive under the lights.

She didn’t understand wine.

At a glance, she couldn’t tell which one to choose.

Keane Lowell sat on a single sofa nearby, quietly watching her pale, elegant figure pacing in front of the wine cabinet.

After a while.

The young lady hesitated and looked over at him, "Which one do you want to drink?"

"Trust me?"

"Mm."

The young lady looked at him expectantly, her delicate features glowing with a beautiful halo, making one want to hold her in their arms and kiss her.

But he restrained himself, stood up, approached her, and took the limited edition diamond-flavored champagne from the top of the cabinet, asking her opinion, "How about champagne?"

"Sounds good."

In the dining room.

Auntie Susan had quietly plated the freshly cooked steak, arranged the tableware, and then left after removing her apron.

The whole villa was left with just the two of them.

Keane Lowell gentlemanly pulled out her chair, leisurely opened the bottle and poured the wine.

Made from top-notch Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier, the champagne, valued at £1.2 million.

At this moment, compared to the young lady’s smile, it became worthless.

He remembered the last time she drank, she said his scent was pleasant, clung to him calling for mom, and even pulled off his trouser button...

Keane Lowell sat down opposite her, saw her sniffing the aroma, and asked, "Smell good?"

Claire Prescott nodded with a smile, "Mm."

She used to frequently drink low-alcohol cocktails, incomparable to this, so she couldn’t pinpoint what was good, just that the wine’s fruity aroma was rich and delicate.

Then.

The next moment.

He tilted his glass to gently clink with hers, his voice magnetically tender, "Wishing for you to become even more outstanding."

She was taken aback, a slight shiver spreading across her scalp.

The man carried himself elegantly, his fine, cool white shirt perfectly tailored to his physique, highlighting his composed and gentle demeanor to the fullest.

Yet his words, mixed with his unique qualities, turned extraordinarily tender and subtle.

Especially.

The endearment "baby" felt electrifying, making her shy away from meeting his gaze.

His eyes were gentle and indulgent, seemingly intent on melting her entirely.

"Can we... can we be a bit more proper?" she asked him, her face flushed with a hint of red.

"What part is not proper?"

"You just now... it was like you wanted to eat me up."

"..." Keane Lowell was momentarily speechless, calmly watching her, responding in a soft voice, "Claire, it’s unfair."

Claire Prescott was puzzled, "Unfair in what way?"

"Just now, we merely clinked glasses, and before even drinking, you said I wanted to devour you. Besides, your eyes were equally untoward."

"I..."

Was it so?

Claire Prescott was momentarily speechless.

She blinked, unsure of what felt off.

Yet he clearly...

Forget it.

No need to dwell.

"Alright, my mistake." She spoke, penalizing herself with a sip of wine.

But after a sip, she couldn’t help but reveal a satisfied expression, "This wine is really delicious. Young Master Lowell has good taste."

Keane Lowell took a sip afterward, indulgently watching her, "As long as you like it."

After speaking, he reminded her again, "It’s strong, don’t drink too much."

"At home, getting drunk doesn’t matter."

Hmm... that’s a good point.

Keane Lowell offered her a piece of the cut steak.

Claire Prescott naturally leaned in, took a bite, chewed and swallowed, then took another sip of wine, telling him, "More."

Keane Lowell smiled and asked, "Is the meat on my plate better?"

Claire Prescott shook her head, "It’s because you cut it personally that it’s better."

Keane Lowell paused with the knife and fork in his hands, raising his eyes to glance at her earnest face.

Just a moment ago, she accused him of not being proper, yet she was unaware of how charming her words were, having no self-awareness.

He fed her several more bites.

Seeing her relish the wine, drinking cup after cup as if it were a beverage, he wanted to advise, but since she had a day off tomorrow, he let her be.

But.

As her gaze began to turn hazy, he pressed down on her lifting cup, gently stopping her, "No more drinking, I’ll drink with you next time."

"Alright."

No resistance.

Claire Prescott rested her face in her hands, lazily propping herself against the table, obediently watching him.

He withdrew his hand, asking her, "Are you full?"

"Not yet."

Keane Lowell moved her plate of beef over, cutting a piece to feed her.

This time, she didn’t open her mouth, and after a brief silence, she said, "I don’t want to eat beef."

Keane Lowell patiently asked, "What do you want to eat?"

"You." Claire Prescott’s clear, captivating eyes directly locked onto him without any disguise, with a playful smile at the corner of her lips, "I’m praising you as a feast for the eyes."

"..."

Who is being improper, really?

Keane Lowell thought quietly for a moment, then asked her tenderly, "Are you drunk?"

She refused to admit it, "No, I’m speaking the truth."

Keane Lowell didn’t believe her and intended to brew her some sobering tea.

As he fetched water from the dispenser, she quietly came over, wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, and leaned her full weight against him, softly calling him, "President Lowell."

Keane Lowell stopped the water, asking, "What’s wrong?"

"Did you spike the wine with something? I feel like I can’t leave you at all."