The soft towel accidentally brushed against Simon Forrester’s nipple, causing him to involuntarily groan.
Accompanying this ambiguous sound was a physical reaction—his grey ho pants appeared much tighter than a mont ago.
What a sensitive guy!
Sienna Thornton thought silently.
The towel in her hand moved downward, brushing against Simon Forrester’s delicately defined six-pack abs and the faintly revealing V-line.
Sienna Thornton quickly withdrew her hand.
The man is a patient, currently feverish. If she further stirs him up, it would be detrintal to his health.
A whole basin of icy water turned into lukewarm water, and she went to change it again. After several repetitions, Simon Forrester’s temperature finally dropped a bit.
Exhausted to the point of collapse, she used the last bit of strength to help Simon Forrester put on a clean T-shirt.
She dared not sleep for a mont, checking his temperature every half hour. Only after finding no recurrence of the fever three tis in a row did she finally relieve her ntal burden, awkwardly falling asleep over the bar stool.
Upon waking, the sunlight outside was blazing, its warmth pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows, flooding into the living room.
Sienna Thornton squinted her eyes, sitting up achingly, sleepily asking Auntie King to make so sour fish soup for lunch, when she suddenly recalled sothing and turned to check on the man lying on the floor.
The man lay wrapped in a quilt, sleeping soundly, his complexion looking normal, though his lips were sowhat dry from dehydration.
Sienna quickly placed the back of her hand on Simon Forrester’s forehead, murmuring, "The fever’s gone."
Relieved, she was just about to withdraw her hand when Simon Forrester, who had his eyes closed, suddenly opened them, grasping her wrist.
Sienna was caught off guard and pulled close to his chest.
His palm seed to retain last night’s high temperature, burning like an iron on Sienna Thornton’s fair, delicate wrist.
He had a wolfish deanor full of morning vigor.
Startled by her own thoughts, Sienna Thornton regained her composure, boldly eting his sparkling eyes, and sarcastically said, "Director Forrester, are you mistaking for soone else?"
Perhaps seeing clearly it was her, Simon Forrester awkwardly released his hand.
He rubbed his forehead, his voice hoarse and low from severe dehydration, "What ti is it?"
Sienna Thornton glanced at the antique clock on the wall, "It’s half past ten."
Upon hearing the ti, Simon Forrester instantly struggled to get up.
Seeing him appear so weak, Sienna Thornton kindly stepped forward to help him up, "Do you know what happened last night?"
"I know." He simply replied, not ntioning anything further.
Sienna Thornton spoke candidly, "It was just a high fever. How co you passed out from it?"
Seeing him not answer, Sienna Thornton suddenly opened her eyes wide, exclaid, "Are you... are you suffering from a serious illness?"
It’s understandable why Sienna Thornton would be so startled; these days, severe diseases are increasingly affecting the young. Simon Forrester’s fever was indeed alarming, so it’s no wonder she thought that way.
Simon Forrester’s pale face held the frustration of an unresolved illness. He took several deep breaths and said wearily, "Thank you for taking care of last night."
Before Sienna Thornton could say "You’re welco," he brushed aside her hand, covering his upper abdon and returning to the bedroom.
Sienna Thornton followed him, "You’re so ill, so how do we handle breakfast? And lunch, dinner too?"
Simon Forrester didn’t answer her, whether out of reluctance or weakness rendering him speechless.
Sienna Thornton was equally puzzled, so she picked up her wallet and went downstairs to buy groceries herself.
In the fresh food supermarket downstairs, she bought ingredients to make porridge. Upon exiting the elevator, she unexpectedly ran into Harrison Rowe coming in.
Both were montarily stunned; shortly after, Harrison Rowe spoke first, "Lawyer Thornton, Director Forrester is sick, so he won’t be going to the office for the next few days. Please take care of him at ho."
"No problem!" Sienna Thornton agreed readily, then soon after, with a displeased expression, she asked, "But do you know what illness Director Forrester has?"
"Director Forrester has a bad stomach."
"So he..." Sienna Thornton sighed, "He’s so young and already has stomach cancer, truly a case of talent being thwarted by fate."
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