The brief ripple of emotion was like a pebble tossed into a deep pool, instantly suppressed by Dexter Ashford. By the time his gaze met the girl’s again, it had returned to its usual indifference. Only the fountain pen clutched in his knuckles remained taut, not loosening in the slightest.
"Please present your patient card."
His voice was deep, as if steeped in cool jade. Through the thin lenses of his glasses, his eyes were as pale as if veiled in mist, their gaze falling calmly upon the girl.
She wore a creamy-apricot cashmere cardigan over a white dress. Her chestnut hair was loosely tied in a low ponytail with a silk ribbon of a matching color. A small pearl hairpin was clipped by her ear, and fine strands of hair fell beside her cheeks, making her look docile and harmless.
Dexter’s Adam’s apple bobbed almost imperceptibly. He simply couldn’t connect the girl before him with the one from the bar last night—the one who had sat on his lap, her passion almost scorching.
"Doctor, here’s my patient card."
Jasmine Sinclair took the black and gold patient card, which glinted coldly, from her bag. She pinched it by the edge and handed it over, a sweet and obedient smile on her face.
As Dexter reached out to take it, the pad of his finger inadvertently brushed against her soft, warm palm. A mere moment of contact, and the wild memories of last night flooded his mind like a tidal wave.
In the noisy bar, she had sat on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as they kissed passionately. The scorching heat of their mingled breaths, the pressure of her fingertips tracing his back, the feel of her soft waist against his palm, and the sound of her faint, warm breaths as she buried her face in his chest.
Dexter’s body reacted instantly. An indescribable heat shot up his spine. He forcibly suppressed the strange sensation, his fingertips tightening abruptly, adding more force to his grip on the fountain pen. Yet, his face remained as indifferent as ever.
A tingling numbness suddenly shot through Jasmine’s palm. She looked up, but the man’s expression was as placid as ever, as if that brief touch had been purely accidental.
’That bastard,’ Jasmine grumbled internally. ’He definitely did that on purpose to take advantage of me.’ The smile on her lips remained soft and sweet, but a playful, provocative glint quietly surfaced in her eyes. ’Let’s see how long he can keep up this act, and how long he can hold out before he brings up last night himself.’
Jasmine Sinclair’s personal information and past medical records appeared on Dexter’s computer. He’d had her looked into after he got home last night. The adopted daughter of the Sinclair Family, with a childhood sweetheart for a fiancé. Recently, the Sinclairs had found their biological daughter, putting her in a rather awkward position. He figured that was probably why she had been drinking so heavily last night.
Dexter quickly reined in his wandering thoughts. He tapped a key on the keyboard and looked up, his tone as flat and calm as ever, as if that moment of distraction had never happened. "What seems to be the trouble with your heart?"
"I feel like my heart has been thumping all day. It seems to be beating faster than usual."
Jasmine knitted her brows slightly, raising a hand to gently press against the left side of her chest. Her voice carried a hint of weariness.
Dexter’s fingers paused. His gaze fell on the slender fingers she had placed over her chest, and he continued in the same steady tone, "Any dizziness or shortness of breath?"
"Yes."
Jasmine nodded. Her long eyelashes drooped, casting a faint shadow on her eyelids and making her look exceptionally pitiful.
Dexter didn’t ask any more questions. He stood up, picked up the stethoscope from the side, and walked slowly over to Jasmine.
He leaned over slightly, pressing the metal diaphragm of the stethoscope gently against the left side of her chest, over her creamy-apricot cashmere cardigan.
The fabric was thin. Through the soft material, he could not only clearly capture the powerful beat of her heart, but his fingertips could also faintly feel the warmth of her skin.
Jasmine’s breath caught. Her heart skipped a beat, and a searing heat spread from the spot where the stethoscope was pressed. She instinctively looked up, her nose almost touching his. The man’s crisp, cedar-like scent enveloped her completely.
Dexter’s eyes darkened. Forcibly suppressing the strange feeling in his heart, he lowered his gaze, his voice betraying no emotion. "Breathe lightly. Don’t be nervous."
The girl’s heartbeat was as rapid as a drumbeat, transmitted clearly through the stethoscope to Dexter’s eardrums, causing his own heart to quicken involuntarily. He tried to calm his mind and focused on listening to the rhythm of her heart to determine its condition.
A few minutes later, Dexter removed the stethoscope. His fingertips paused ever so lightly on the spot where the diaphragm had been, then quickly pulled back.
He turned, walked back to his desk, and sat down. He tapped a few keys on the keyboard, and when he looked up, his tone was as flat and calm as ever. Only when his gaze swept over her pale lips did it pause almost imperceptibly. "It’s nothing serious. It’s likely an aftereffect of your hangover. Just go home and get some proper rest."
"Oh, that’s good to hear. That really scared me. I thought there was something wrong with my heart. I’m so glad it’s nothing serious."
Jasmine patted her chest, looking as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders, but a cunning glint was hidden in the depths of her eyes.
Dexter lowered his gaze and tapped the keyboard twice more before adding faintly, "Don’t stay up late or drink heavily for a while. Stick to a light diet, and you’ll recover quickly."
"Thank you, Doctor. If that’s all, I’ll be going now."
Jasmine got up to leave, her tone carrying a hint of barely perceptible haste.
’As a Siren, I’m very busy; I have another gig to get to. The stupid system only told me to come and seduce Dexter Ashford, and I’ve done my part. As for whether he was actually seduced, that’s his problem.’
"Wait. Sit down."
Dexter’s voice rang out suddenly, stopping Jasmine just as she was about to take a step. His fingertips unconsciously tightened on the edge of the desk.
Jasmine paused. When she turned around, the soft, sweet smile was plastered back on her face, but her eyes hid a trace of impatience. "What is it, Doctor? Is there something else?"
"You have an injury on your knee. Let me treat it for you."
Dexter’s gaze fell on her slightly reddened knee, visible beneath the hem of her dress. His tone remained flat.
Hearing this, Jasmine quickly waved her hands. "It’s just from a little fall. It should be fine. No need to trouble you, Doctor. I can just put some medicine on it myself when I get home."
’I’m in a real hurry! I have an orthopedics appointment with Dylan Sinclair at the public hospital next door. If Dexter treats my knee, what’s left for Dylan to do? Just stand there and look handsome? You meet one of these "mad dog" male leads, you might as well meet them all. I want to see for myself just how handsome this Dylan Sinclair is—the guy who can make the heroine, Yara Sawyer, cry with emotion over a plate of egg-fried rice.’
Seeing Jasmine refuse his offer to treat her wound, Dexter strode forward and grabbed her wrist. His palm was warm and his grip was strong, leaving no room for her to struggle. He forcefully pushed her back down into the chair, his tone cold, hard, and admitting no argument. "Sit."
Jasmine was startled by Dexter’s sudden move. She could feel the warmth of his palm on her wrist. She tried to pull her hand back, but he only held it tighter. Impatience flashed in her eyes, but the sweet smile never left her face as she said in a soft voice, "Doctor, I’m really in a hurry..."