Chapter91 Clifton Admitted He Was Thoroughly Pleased
The aggressively possessive words made Miranda's ears burn. She squirmed uncomfortably, broke free from his embrace, and turned to face him.
"The online situation caused such a huge mess. I didn't dare tell my mom because I was afraid she'd worry. Now that it's resolved and my wound has healed, I haven't seen her in so long and I really miss her."
Her voice softened, carrying a barely detectable note of dependence.
Clifton raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his deep eyes quietly watching her, waiting for more.
Meeting those eyes that seemed to see through everything, Miranda felt a bit self-conscious and fidgeted with her fingers.
"You have such good taste. Could you help me put together an outfit with accessories?"
Her voice carried a pleading quality she wasn't even aware of. Her bright eyes looked luminous now, as if filled with starlight, gazing at him unblinkingly.
Clifton admitted he was thoroughly pleased.
Without a word, he simply turned and walked straight into the enormous walk-in closet.
Watching the man's tall, broad-shouldered back, Miranda's face broke into a sly smile.
She'd long ago discovered that Clifton had impeccable taste.
Whether in his own dress or in his occasional comments about her, he was always spot-on.
Of course, this might also be related to the elite education he'd received since childhood.
Either way, since she couldn't decide, having this "free" top-tier stylist help was perfect.
In less than five minutes, Clifton emerged from the closet.
He held a sharply tailored black one-shoulder top and a pair of stylish light blue jeans with unique design details.
The man raised an eyebrow at Miranda, his eyes asking, "Want to try?"
He stepped forward and touched her smooth, silky hair. "This outfit is more casual. Good for shopping. You won't feel restricted."
As he spoke, his fingers slid down and lightly pinched her small, rounded earlobe, the calluses on his fingertips creating a slightly rough texture that made Miranda shiver.
"Wear those biggest silver hoop earrings from the third tier of your jewelry box, left side."
Miranda's eyes widened slightly.
She hadn't expected Clifton to remember the exact position of every piece of jewelry in her box, even which tier.
This man's observational skills were terrifying.
Soon, Miranda emerged wearing the outfit. Standing before the full-length mirror, after adding the earrings and necklace he'd chosen, her face showed satisfaction.
The one-shoulder design revealed her delicate collarbones and rounded shoulder, creating just the right touch of allure.
The high-waisted jeans perfectly accentuated her straight, slender legs. She looked both fashionable and relaxed, with a casual, effortless elegance.
Now she finally understood why all those dresses she'd tried earlier felt wrong.
Those clothes had made her look stiff and overly formal.
Shopping with her mother was meant to be relaxing. In this outfit, Miranda felt her whole mood lighten considerably.
Clifton's tall figure had appeared behind her at some point. Through the mirror, watching the delight in her eyes, he asked in a low voice, "Well? Satisfied?"
"Yes." Miranda nodded emphatically, then turned to look up at him. "Very satisfied."
Looking at her radiant smile, darkness churned in Clifton's eyes. He suddenly raised his finger and tapped his own thin lips.
"Gratitude."
A simple word, utterly commanding.
Watching the determined gleam in Clifton's eyes, Miranda's heart skipped a beat.
She rose on her tiptoes and slowly leaned closer.
The man's breathing, her own heartbeat, magnified infinitely in this moment.
Just as their lips were about to meet, Miranda mischievously turned her head, her soft lips pressing firmly against the man's cheek instead.
A vivid red lip print with fine shimmer now brazenly marked Clifton's handsome face.
Looking at her handiwork, mischief flashed in Miranda's eyes. She quickly stepped back, grabbed her bag from the sofa, and bolted for the door without looking back.
"I'm leaving!"
Her voice rang with energy, as if she feared staying even one second longer would result in being caught and "punished on the spot."
Clifton stood there watching her nearly flee, unable to help laughing.
He raised his hand, his fingertips lightly touching the lip print on his cheek that still carried the woman's warmth and fragrance. The corners of his mouth curved higher and higher.
Remembering the doctor would be coming for a routine checkup soon, his smile faded slightly. He turned and walked to the wall, settling back into the wheelchair he used as camouflage.
Half an hour later, the family doctor arrived with his medical bag.
He bowed respectfully. "Clifton, I'm here for your routine examination."
As soon as he looked up and saw Clifton's face clearly, the doctor's expression froze instantly, undisguised shock in his eyes.
Clifton frowned, his cool gaze sweeping over him.
"Just do your examination," he said flatly, though the warning was unmistakable. "Remember, don't say anything you shouldn't."
The doctor's heart lurched at that look. He quickly lowered his head, breaking into a cold sweat.
"Yes, yes, I understand."
He forced himself to ignore the embarrassingly obvious lip print on his employer's face and dutifully began the examination.
When he pulled back the light blanket and saw the man's legs with their smooth, powerful muscle definition, the doctor's eye twitched. But he ultimately went against his conscience and wrote in the conclusion section of the examination report: "Severe damage, difficult to recover."
Seeing what the doctor wrote, Clifton's lips curved almost imperceptibly.
He straightened his pant legs and maneuvered the wheelchair, bringing the family doctor downstairs to the living room with him.
Almost as soon as they emerged from the elevator, Prescott looked up from his newspaper on the sofa.
The next second, his expression matched the doctor's from earlier, showing the same mixture of shock and barely concealed delight.
Clifton's frown deepened.
What was wrong with everyone today? They were all acting so strange.
He handed over the examination report. "Grandfather, the examination is complete."
"Oh, oh, good, good!" Hearing this, Prescott seemed to snap out of it and quickly took the report.
But though he held the paper, his sharp eyes remained fixed on Clifton's face, his mind clearly elsewhere.
Clifton found this baffling. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and raised his voice. "Grandfather."
Prescott jumped, finally tearing his gaze from his grandson's face. He tossed the examination report carelessly onto the coffee table and waved at the uncomfortable doctor.
"All right, you can go."
The doctor immediately bowed and escaped as quickly as possible.
Clifton watched him, feeling confused.
Normally his grandfather obsessed over these leg examination results, grilling the doctor for ages each time. Why was he acting like a different person today, not even glancing at the report?
Prescott cleared his throat, leaning forward, his old eyes gleaming with gossip as he lowered his voice. "Clifton, how are things going with Miranda?"
He paused before asking an even more explosive question.
"Also, you two in bed, is it... very harmonious?"
Clifton's face instantly darkened.
"Grandfather," he ground out through clenched teeth. "You're overstepping."
But instead of backing off, Prescott burst out laughing, pointing at him with an "I understand" expression.
"If you don't want me involved, then don't come out looking like that."
"What?" Clifton's brow furrowed as he instinctively maneuvered the wheelchair toward the large floor mirror in the living room.
In the reflection, a complete and vivid red lip print marked his cheek, boldly declaring its presence.
He finally understood why both the doctor and his grandfather had looked so shocked upon first seeing him.
He also finally understood the mischievous gleam Miranda couldn't hide as she left.
Clifton composed himself and raised his hand, rubbing his face hard.
The lipstick was extremely waterproof. Rather than removing it, his rubbing only smeared it across his face, making it look even worse...