Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Holding the Back of Her Head and Kissing Her
Something flashed through her mind.
But Holly Sinclair couldn’t quite grasp it.
Just then, the examination was over.
"Dr. Quincy, how is my nephew today?"
Isabella Sinclair immediately stood up and walked over, asking anxiously.
"Very good. At this rate, the patient should be waking up very soon," Ian Quincy said as he picked up the chart at the foot of the bed to record Noah Sinclair’s condition.
"Really?"
"Really?!"
Isabella Sinclair and Holly Sinclair asked in unison.
Holly Sinclair’s eyes instantly reddened, and she was overcome with joy.
"Yes."
Ian Quincy gave a faint nod, his sharp gaze sizing her up.
"Thank you, Dr. Quincy." Holly Sinclair was ecstatic, her voice trembling with excitement.
"Hand."
Ian Quincy suddenly uttered a single, abrupt word.
Holly Sinclair’s delicate brows furrowed slightly. She didn’t understand what he meant.
But seeing his gaze land on her hand, she subconsciously held out her left hand.
"The other one."
He gestured with his chin toward her right hand, which was still wrapped in gauze.
Holly Sinclair obediently raised her right hand.
Ian Quincy unwrapped the gauze on her hand to inspect the wound.
"It’s healing well."
He rebandaged it for her and instructed, "Remember to apply the green ointment once in the morning and once at night. It will get rid of the scar, so nothing will be left."
’This stunningly beautiful girl must hold some sway in Mr. Sterling’s heart,’ Ian Quincy thought.
’After all, if their relationship were ordinary, he wouldn’t have summoned me to the hospital in the middle of the night, in such a rush, just to treat her wound.’
’He even kept watch by her bedside all night.’
Holly Sinclair was bewildered.
’Dr. Quincy’s tone... it’s so familiar, as if he were the one who treated my hand...’
’But that can’t be right.’
’She clearly remembered overhearing the nurses gossiping that day. They said Miss Linton had suffered only a minor injury, but Mr. Sterling had called in a leading neurologist overnight to treat her...’
’Could there be two leading neurologists?’
With that, Ian Quincy left.
"Uh... thank you," she murmured at his departing back.
Holly Sinclair felt like she was missing some vital piece of information, but after racking her brain for a long time, she couldn’t figure out what it was.
In the end, she had to let it go.
Soon after, Isabella Sinclair left as well.
Holly Sinclair hadn’t seen her brother in several days and couldn’t bear to leave, wanting to stay with him a little longer.
She sat down by the hospital bed, gazing at her brother’s gaunt, pale face...
As she watched him, tears began to stream down her cheeks.
"Brother, did you hear what the doctor said? You’re going to wake up soon..."
"Brother, don’t sleep anymore. Open your eyes and look at me, okay...?"
"Please wake up soon, Brother. When you do, you can protect me like you always used to..."
Clutching her brother’s cool hand, Holly Sinclair’s vision blurred with tears as she choked back sorrowful sobs.
The grievances and sorrow she had bottled up inside could only be fully released in front of her closest kin.
These past days had been so painful; she felt like she could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
She believed that as long as her brother woke up, everything would be alright.
After a long while, Holly Sinclair’s emotions finally stabilized.
She wiped away her tears and went to the bathroom.
She turned on the faucet and splashed her face with cold water.
Before she could even dry the water from her face, she suddenly felt a chill on the back of her neck.
She glanced back.
Her eyes met a pair of black irises as deep as ink.
Tristan Sterling stood by the bathroom door, his hands in his pockets. Dressed in a well-tailored, silver-gray suit that accentuated his tall, elegant figure, he exuded an air of nobility from head to toe.
"What are you doing here?"
Holly Sinclair froze, and then a layer of frost spread across her beautiful face.
Tristan Sterling didn’t speak.
He just stared at her with a heavy gaze, his eyes fixed on... the water droplets constantly trickling down her face.
The droplets landed on her chest, soaking a small patch of her white shirt.
Right in the middle.
The alluring valley of her cleavage was faintly visible.
Tristan Sterling’s gaze gradually grew heated.
Sensing his stare, Holly Sinclair felt violated.
"Get out. You’re not welcome here."
She raised a hand to cover her chest, her voice laced with anger.
But to her surprise, the man took a long stride forward instead of retreating.
"Speak to me properly."
Tristan Sterling entered the bathroom. His words were light, yet they carried an invisible pressure and threat.
The bathroom was small, making it feel crowded with two people inside, especially since he was so tall.
Holly Sinclair felt the air grow thin.
She wanted to put some distance between them, but in the cramped space, there was nowhere for her to retreat.
’If I can’t afford to provoke him, I can at least hide from him.’
Unwilling to share the room with him, she tried to slip past him to get out.
But then—
"Ah!"
Her body was suddenly lifted into the air.
He grabbed her slender waist—so narrow he could encircle it with his hands—and with a light lift, placed her on the bathroom counter.
He pressed forward, his body nearly flush against hers.
As the distance closed, his unique masculine scent filled her nostrils.
Caught off guard, Holly Sinclair’s heart gave a slight tremble.
’His scent was so pleasant, a scent she had once been madly obsessed with...’
’It was a kind of "poison" she couldn’t really quit right away.’
His sudden proximity scared her, and she instinctively leaned back, but the back of her head hit the mirror with a THUD.
Tristan Sterling pulled her back, rubbing the spot where she’d hit her head, and cursed, "Idiot."
His low, magnetic voice seemed tinged with a hint of helplessness.
A blush uncontrollably crept onto Holly Sinclair’s face.
The atmosphere grew delicate.
Holly Sinclair was vexed.
’She hated this side of herself.’
Seeing the blush on Holly Sinclair’s cheeks, Tristan Sterling felt a stir of desire.
His large hand cupped the back of her head as he leaned in to kiss her.
Holly Sinclair turned her head to avoid him.
Just as she was about to shove him away forcefully—
"My memory is terrible. I got all the way to the garage before I realized I left my car keys here..."
The sound of footsteps entered the hospital room, and Isabella Sinclair’s voice suddenly rang out from outside.
Holly Sinclair froze.
The man’s lips took the opportunity to land on her fair, smooth neck.
He bit down, unable to resist.
The pain made Holly Sinclair’s eyes redden, but she didn’t dare make a single sound.
"Holly?"
Isabella Sinclair came to the bathroom door and asked, "Are you in there?"
Holly Sinclair held her breath, her heart pounding with nervousness.
She didn’t want her aunt to know Tristan Sterling was inside.
Her aunt was already against her divorcing Tristan. If she saw them in such an ambiguous, intimate position now, she would be even more opposed to it.
"Holly?"
When she didn’t get an answer, Isabella Sinclair reached out to turn the doorknob.
"Auntie, I’m using the toilet!" Holly Sinclair hurriedly called out.
Hearing this, Isabella Sinclair pulled her hand back. "Oh, I forgot my car keys and came back to get them."
"Okay."
Holly Sinclair silently prayed for her aunt to leave quickly.
But things didn’t go as she wished—
"By the way, how have you and Tristan been lately?" Isabella Sinclair suddenly asked.
It was the one topic she didn’t want to discuss.
"..." Holly Sinclair was at a loss for words.
’Lying was wrong, but telling the truth was out of the question.’
Silence was her only option.
"Holly, listen to your aunt’s advice. No couple holds a grudge overnight. You fight at the head of the bed and make up at the foot. Stop making a scene, it’s gone on long enough," Isabella Sinclair pleaded earnestly.
A chill spread through Holly Sinclair’s heart.
’In this world, the only people who truly thought from her perspective were her brother and Wendy.’
Tristan Sterling’s lips grazed past Holly Sinclair’s ear. His low, rich voice was sexy and seductive. "Did you hear that? Stop making a scene..."
