novelraw Chapter 642: The Pose Looks Like She is Feeding Him Water
Chapter 642: The Pose Looks Like She is Feeding Him Water
Delphine acted on impulse and hugged him. Seeing the man’s body tense up, motionless, she hurriedly let go of his slender waist and pressed the call button to summon the doctor.
The man remained silent from start to finish, his deep and mysterious eyes fixed tightly on her. When she told him to get into bed, he complied; when she asked him to lie down, he did so obediently, like an unusually well-behaved child.
Soon, the doctor and nurse arrived to change his dressings. The wound had reopened severely, and when Delphine saw the knife wound on his chest, several centimeters long, her eyelashes trembled slightly.
"Mr. Leclair’s daily activities must be handled with extreme care. The wound is very deep. If it had been even slightly misplaced, it would have punctured the heart directly. If the wound opens up again, the consequences could be dire," the doctor cautioned her.
Delphine nodded in acknowledgment and saw the doctor off. Facing Ignatius Leclair, she now seemed unable to muster even a trace of temper.
The man had just had his dressings changed. His face was pale as paper, his phoenix-shaped eyes appearing even deeper and darker than usual. His large hand tightly clasped her soft, boneless little hand as he spoke in a low voice, "I want some water."
Delphine hurried to pour him some water and handed him the glass, but he didn’t take it. Instead, he held onto her hand, guiding the glass to his lips. As he drank, his dark, fathomless phoenix eyes locked onto her.
The posture made it seem as though she was personally feeding him the water, inexplicably leaving her feeling parched and restless.
The man drank painstakingly slowly. By the time he was done, Delphine’s hand felt sore, as if an eternity had passed. She swiftly pulled her hand away, placed the cup to the side, and whispered softly, "You should rest early tonight. I’ll stay here until you fall asleep, then head back home."
"Sleep here; you can add another bed," the man said in his low voice. In his thirty years of life, he had never touched on matters of affection. But a man with such calm and profound rationale, once his emotions were awakened, could behave like a teenager—wanting nothing more than to tie himself to the person he liked, unwilling to part for even a moment.
His original thought was to say the bed was big enough for two, but it had only just begun—he didn’t want to be too hasty and scare her off. Big Bao and Little Bao were still at the Howard Family’s residence, and Leah Squire, although she was currently staying with Delphine, had a man of her own and might not always return home to sleep. Delphine, however, could stay overnight at the hospital.
Delphine remained silent for a moment before replying softly, "Just get some rest. Your wound needs proper healing."
The remainder of the evening passed peacefully. After waiting for him to fall asleep, Delphine put away the book she had been staring at all night without comprehending a single word and gazed at his tranquil, handsome face as he slept.
Though this man was temperamental, often swinging between anger and cruelty, he was undeniably beautiful, the type to drive countless women to obsession. Their relationship had always been unsettlingly unhealthy; for as long as she could remember, he had always been the one in control. If he wanted to be together, they were together; if he wanted to separate, they would separate. He had no shortage of methods to get his way.
This time, he had won again. Delphine lowered her gaze. The only act of defiance left for her was to guard her own heart—this was her final line of self-preservation. As long as she didn’t fall in love with him, she wouldn’t be hurt.
After waiting half an hour for him to fall deeply asleep, Delphine moved quietly before slipping out, driving back to her little villa.
The next morning, the hospital called. A young nurse, almost terrified into tears by the man’s sullen expression, spoke tremblingly, "Miss Delphine, you’d better come to the hospital quickly. Mr. Leclair refuses to take his medication, won’t let us change his dressing, and even got out of bed—this, this—"
The young nurse was almost crying through the phone, too frightened to look up at the distinguished, handsome man seated on the hospital bed, exuding an air of aristocratic refinement.
"I’m coming to the hospital right away," Delphine hurriedly replied. She got out of bed, freshened up, and anxiously rushed to the hospital.