A Night of Desire

Chapter 207 - 204: Wife?

"I couldn’t help it. I just wanted to wait for you."

Seth Quinn said it so naturally that Clara Grant’s face flushed red again. ’I can’t talk to him anymore,’ she thought. ’Otherwise, my face will keep alternating between pale and flushed. It’ll be so weird.’

So, Clara Grant fell silent and simply lowered her head, focusing on her food.

Seth Quinn didn’t say anything more, and for a moment, the dining room fell completely silent.

Once she was full, she happened to see Seth Quinn put down his chopsticks as well. After a moment’s hesitation, Clara Grant stood up to clear the dishes.

’He did treat me to a meal, after all,’ she thought. ’It’s only polite for me to help wash the dishes.’

’Of course, as the host, if he showed me even a little courtesy and said something like, "Don’t wash those, just leave them," I’d happily take him up on it.’

She stole glances at Seth Quinn from the corner of her eye as she tidied up, but he showed no sign of being polite. He simply wiped his hands with a napkin and leaned back leisurely in his chair, watching her. His expression was one of delight and satisfaction, as if he were admiring a treasured work of art.

Clara Grant could only pout in dissatisfaction, quickening her pace as she carried the dishes to the kitchen.

She had just stepped through the kitchen doorway when Seth Quinn’s leisurely, amused voice sounded from behind her. "Wife, if you don’t feel like washing them, just leave them be."

Clara Grant stumbled, nearly falling over.

Watching her slightly flustered retreat, the smile on Seth Quinn’s lips only grew wider.

Clara Grant wanted to retort, ’Who’s your wife?!’ But then she remembered that she *was*, in fact, his wife. He wasn’t wrong to call her that, but it just felt so awkward to hear.

In the end, Clara Grant could only pretend she hadn’t heard him. Feigning composure, she walked to the sink, washed the dishes quickly, and walked back out.

She stopped a few feet in front of Seth Quinn, looked at him, and asked, "Can you take me to see Cherie now?"

Seth Quinn rose from his chair, gave her a look, and said nonchalantly, "I need to call his primary doctor and ask if it’s a good time to visit."

Clara Grant thought for a moment. That seemed reasonable, so she nodded.

Seth Quinn pulled out his phone, moved a short distance away, and dialed a number. As he put the phone to his ear, it connected. "Hello?" he said, glancing sideways at Clara Grant.

"Dr. Linden, it’s Seth Quinn. I’d like to come over and see Cherie. Is now a good time?"

After saying this, Seth Quinn went quiet. Clara Grant couldn’t hear the voice on the other end of the call. She grew anxious, but all she could do was wait.

After a moment, Seth Quinn finally spoke again, but only uttered a few simple words. "Okay, I understand."

Then he hung up the phone.

On the other end of the line, Rowan Linden was baffled. ’Why call me Dr. Linden and say he wants to see Cherie?’ he thought. ’Didn’t he take Cherie home a while ago?’

Then it hit him—Clara Grant must be with him.

So, he had kindly reminded Seth to confess his mistake sooner rather than later. The longer he dragged out the lie, the deeper it would become, and the more she would hate him for it in the end.

But in the end, Seth Quinn had just said that he understood. ’What exactly does he understand?’

Rowan Linden looked at his phone and shook his head in resignation.

"What did Dr. Linden say?" Clara Grant asked, hurrying forward as soon as Seth Quinn hung up.

Seth Quinn glanced at her hopeful face, raised an eyebrow slightly, and replied, "He said Cherie just fell asleep, and since it’s getting a little late, it’s not a very convenient time to visit."

The sparkle in Clara Grant’s eyes instantly faded, but she wasn’t ready to give up. "It’s not even six o’clock. How is that late? Why would Cherie be asleep already?"