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Novel Catalog
Chapter 43: Too Ordinary To Catch Your Eye
Dalton tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting the sensation wash over him. Each time Wynter lowered her head, the tips of her long hair brushed against his arm. The sensation made his senses sharpen, and he couldn’t help but notice how her hair parted to one side, teasing the edges of his vision.
The massage only lasted twenty minutes, but for some reason, Dalton found himself wanting to run his fingers through her hair—just a fleeting thought, like an enchantment he couldn’t shake.
“All done,” Wynter said, her tone calm and composed. She finished with a firm thumb press on the acupuncture points below his knee. “You can get dressed now.”
Dalton sat up, realizing he was sweating—a lot more than usual. But this wasn’t the cold sweat he’d grown accustomed to with his illness. Instead, his body felt warm, almost cozy, as if the warmth had seeped into him from the massage.
He looked up at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Thank you.”
“We had limited time today,” Wynter replied, wiping a stray strand of hair from her face. “I just focused on stimulating your appetite.”
Wynter, too, was sweating. Her face glistened with it, her long hair now damp against her neck, making her lips appear even more red. She looked both aloof and captivating in the dim light.
Dalton felt an odd tightness in his throat and quickly adjusted the shirt he had just buttoned.
Wynter turned away for a moment, picking up a needle, then returned to him. She placed her hand back on his body, pressing lightly on his acupuncture points once more.
As Dalton sat up, he could feel her breath even closer now. The proximity made his heart beat a little faster.
With precise movements, she inserted the needles into his neck, inch by inch. The cool sensation was gentle, but it caused his pulse to quicken in response.
Wynter seemed to notice his quickened pulse. “Your breath is a bit uneven. Are you feeling hot?”
“Hm,” Dalton replied softly, turning his chiseled face to the right. “How much longer?” His voice was low and husky, carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.
“Not much longer, just six needles. Hang in there,” Wynter responded, her tone still professional.
Dalton’s gaze remained locked on her face. “Dr. Genius, you seem quite familiar with this treatment method.”
Wynter raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “This treatment method?”
Dalton gave her a pointed look. “You’re a little too close.”
“Oh, sorry.” She quickly realized her position might have been a little too intimate for comfort.
Dalton sat there, his shirt half unbuttoned. The sight of his slightly pursed lips and messy black hair only added to his rugged allure. His face, though pale, was flushed from the heat of the mugwort, and Wynter’s hand, still resting on his wrist, accidentally brushed against his leg.
In the mirror, the image of them together was almost cinematic—her leaning over him, her beauty like a temptress in a dark tale, while he sat like a restrained, virtuous angel. And yet, it wasn’t anything intentional—just the way he looked, his magnetic presence making everything seem charged.
Wynter sighed inwardly, pulling her hand back. “I’ll be more mindful.”
Dalton adjusted his shirt. “It’s nothing. You see so many patients. It’s normal to overlook these details.”
Wynter nodded, her eyes clear and pure. “Indeed. Don’t worry. I’m not lusting after you. To me, whether you’re a man or a woman, it’s all the same.”
She said it with a smile, trying to make her patient feel more at ease.
But Dalton, interpreting it differently, gave a slight, knowing smile. His eyes darkened. “So I’m just too ordinary to catch your eye?”
Wynter blinked, taken aback by his response.
Before she could gather her thoughts, Ethan walked in, his eyes widening at the sight of Dalton and Wynter’s position. The tension in the room was palpable.
The wooden bucket clattered to the floor.
Ethan stammered, “Dr. Genius, what… what are you doing to Mr. Yarwood?”
“I…” Wynter started to explain, but before she could finish, a loud shout rang out from outside.
“Oh no! Wynter! Someone’s blocking your grandma in the alley, saying she’s responsible for a patient’s death!”
