Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle - Chapter 73: Chapter 73

Eugene's muscular chest bore down on Lorraine's supple curves, his searing heat enveloping her. Her mind reeled. He burned with such fever; it was as if he'd ignite her.
She fidgeted, her hand instinctively rising to shove him back, only to land on his damp, clinging shirt. Her heart lurched. "Lose the shirt," she breathed urgently. "Keep it on, and this only gets hotter."
"I'm not going to die," he said, brushing it off.
"Just take it off," she insisted, her tone firm. "What if your wound gets infected?"
"I can't take it off by myself right now. I'll have to wait for Isaac to get here," he said weakly, letting his injured arm drop. "You should get up first."
With him pinning her down like this, she couldn't get up at all. She could barely breathe. "Can you move a little?" she asked, flustered.
"Alright," he agreed easily, but he moved slowly. His chest brushed against her bit by bit, like two magnets stuck together.
As soon as they split, Lorraine sucked in a breath. She sat up fast, cheeks red, and watched him fumble with his shirt on the carpet. She couldn't just watch. "Here, let me help," she said.
"Are you sure?" he asked, looking at her seriously.
He was being so gentlemanly tonight, like she was just a stranger. Lorraine's eyes stung a little, but she still nodded. "Yeah, it's fine."
"Then I'll trouble you," he said, sounding even more polite.
Lorraine got up, walked over, and slowly started unbuttoning his shirt. The cool metal buttons pressed into her palm, snapping her back to reality as she focused on the task at hand.
Her fingers accidentally brushed over his Adam's apple, and she heard a low, muffled groan. She immediately looked up. "Did I hurt you?"
Eugene's expression was anything but natural. "No." It wasn't pain at all. Her touch was just driving him crazy.
Seeing how pale he looked, Lorraine didn't dare move recklessly. She bit her lip, hesitating. "I really think I hurt you," she whispered, not daring to reach out again.
She'd only managed to undo three buttons, and the wet shirt still clung to him. That wasn't what he wanted. After a moment, Eugene nodded. "Yeah, it hurts. But it's fine. Keep going."
Only then did Lorraine tentatively reach out again, her fingertips brushing over his collarbone, then down to his firm chest.
Another low groan escaped him, and Lorraine's fingers froze. "Did I hurt you again?"
Eugene nodded right away and urged her, "Yeah, it hurts. Keep going."
Lorraine had never dealt with a patient who insisted on pushing through the pain before, and she was a bit at a loss. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
She'd already undone half the buttons, so she had to crouch down and carefully unfasten the last one. Her fingers brushed against his firm, smooth abs, and both of them shivered at the touch.
She took a breath. "Still hurts?"
"Mhm, keep going," Eugene replied without even thinking.
"Nah, you're on your own. Figure it out," she snapped, turning away but her brain was a dumpster fire—flashbacks of his chiseled abs, those sharp lines.
Eugene didn't look at her either. While she had her back turned, he quickly pulled off his shirt with his stiff arm and called out, "It's done."
Lorraine turned, her breath catching. His torso, chiseled like marble, glistened with a seductive sheen of sweat. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, obliques sharply defined, a V-line teasing, abs like sculpted bricks. It left her reeling.
"You haven't changed at all," she blurted out.
Eugene raised an eyebrow, looking a little surprised. Once he realized what she meant, a teasing, ambiguous smile appeared on his lips. "What hasn't changed? The size or the shape?"
Lorraine's heart was pounding out of her chest. Realizing what she'd just said, she quickly fixed her gaze on the bandage wrapped around his arm. The white gauze was messily done, with red stains—blood—showing through.
She spaced out for a second, then, almost without thinking, walked over and gently touched the bandage. "Does it still hurt?"
Her voice was all soft, a side of her he'd never seen. She'd been guarded, chill, even indifferent, but this side of her caught him off guard. He tried to play it cool but almost cracked.
Honestly, ever since Lorenzo called to say she was coming, Eugene hadn't been able to focus on work at all. Deals worth hundreds of billions never fazed him, but this time, he actually felt a little unsure of himself.
He thought he'd buried what she said when she left Silverlake Villa. But when he saw her again, it all came flooding back. Used to think she was just a pawn, but she flipped the script and used him. She cut ties cold as ice.
While he was waiting for her earlier, his mind kept spinning between whether she'd come or not, and what he should do if she did.
Every possible outcome left him restless, even a little fidgety. He barely recognized himself like this.
Suddenly, Eugene felt a cool sensation on his arm. He snapped back to reality. A tear was sliding down his forearm. She was crying, again.
His heart skipped a beat, almost in disbelief. He lifted his arm a little, afraid that once the tear fell, he'd lose the only proof she'd ever cried for him.
He remembered asking her before if she was worried about him, and she hadn't answered. Now, he wondered if her tears counted as her answer.
Eugene suddenly felt a little giddy. Seeing the faint redness around Lorraine's eyes, he pulled her down to sit with him, the two of them facing each other.
Tears still clung to her cheeks, trembling at the edge of her jaw, about to fall. The sight made his heart itch. He just wanted to pull her into his arms. But he held himself back. Now wasn't the time.
Eugene took a deep breath, hanging on to his last shred of self-control. "If you're so worried about me over a tiny injury, then why did you move out? Why did you say those things to me?"
After he asked, he held his breath, tension spreading through his chest. He was honestly terrified she'd give him the same answer as last time.
Lorraine lifted her misty eyes. She'd been so focused on his wound that she hadn't really heard him. She blinked, her lips moving slightly.
Eugene sat up ramrod straight, every muscle taut.
"This bandage looks awful. Let me redo it for you," she blurted out, reaching for his bandage.
Eugene quickly blocked her hand. "No, you can't redo it," he said, already pushing her hand away.
He used a bit too much force, and Lorraine was pushed back, looking even more lost. "Why not?"
"Because..." Eugene never thought he'd be at a loss for words. Thinking fast, he suddenly slumped forward. "Because I'm dizzy. Let's deal with that first." As he spoke, he actually collapsed onto her stomach.
Lorraine was knocked back, and Eugene had already lifted her shirt, pressing his handsome face against her skin, holding her down so she couldn't get up.
"Hey, get up. You're making me uncomfortable," she protested.
"You're so cool to the touch. Let me cool off for a bit," he said shamelessly, snuggling even closer.
There wasn't even a sliver of space left between them.
Lorraine's lips parted, breath hitched. Before a sound escaped, Eugene's head dipped, his kiss stealing her breath. Lips and tongues entwined, leaving her utterly breathless and dazed.
He grabbed her hand and guided it to his belt. Lorraine clung to her last bit of reason. "Eugene, what are you doing?"
"I heard checking there gives the truest read," Eugene murmured, breath uneven. "Fever's back, I think. Check me?"
Lorraine wavered, but in a daze, his hand guided hers to him. The scorching heat jolted her. "Where's Isaac?" she mumbled, disoriented.
"How about you help me get some exercise first? Maybe I'll sweat it out," Eugene teased.
"What?" Lorraine blurted, flustered.
"Like this—"
"No, stop," she gasped, swiftly yanking his hand from beneath her shirt. He had a girlfriend. She couldn't let this spiral again. Though bedding him might feel like a triumph over Elsie, she refused to sink that low.
"Then just let me burn up," he muttered, but his hand was still wandering.
"Fine, burn if you want!" she blurted out, flustered, because his hand was already moving higher, almost reaching her chest.
Eugene stiffened abruptly, withdrawing his hand from her collar. He steadied himself, hands braced beside her face, staring down. His eyes, oddly intense, chilled with each passing second.
Lorraine, thinking him furious, rushed to explain. "You can't move like that. You'll hurt your arm, or worse—reopen the wound." Her voice gentled further.
Eugene felt heat rush through him. He leaned in, lips grazing her ear. "I can't control myself. The fever's got me. Doctors know how hard it is to resist. Just let me hold you. Feel how hot I am, then I'll go, promise."
Lorraine had never heard of such a ridiculous way to check someone's temperature. "Don't you have a thermometer?"
"I threw it away. Just now," he lied without missing a beat.
His striking face hovered near. Thinking of his pain all for her, Lorraine felt dazed, letting herself be swept up. "Fine, a second. Once I know your heat, you stop."
Eugene nodded eagerly. "Agreed. You feel it, and I halt instantly."