Chapter 340 She Cares About Him
Francis felt his heart race and whispered, "No need. Just help me with some medicine."
"Let's go. Isn't there medicine in the car?" Harper said, not making a big deal out of it. To her, helping the guy who saved her was no biggie.
She helped Francis walk out, with Isla trailing behind. Isla wanted to say something but Victor held her back.
"Read the room," Victor scolded.
Isla shot him a glare.
Victor added, "Mr. Getty got hurt saving Ms. Murphy. It's fair for her to help him with some medicine."
Isla snapped back, "Ms. Murphy isn't a doctor or nurse. Who knows what Mr. Getty wants in the car."
Victor felt a twinge of guilt.
Francis never hid his feelings for Harper; he actually wanted everyone to know.
But as a good assistant, Victor couldn't say that.
Victor cleared his throat. "Mr. Getty isn't like that. He's always upright and wouldn't do anything to Ms. Murphy. Plus, his shoulder's hurt; he couldn't overpower her."
Victor lied smoothly.
Francis's shoulder injury wasn't serious. It wouldn't stop him.
But Victor had to convince Isla, so he made Francis seem weaker.
Victor pulled Isla to sit in the car behind them. "Just sit here and watch. Don't worry."
Inside the car.
Harper looked at the blood-soaked shirt, unsure where to start.
She frowned. "Maybe we should go to the hospital."
"Really, no need. Just some medicine will do." Francis knew his injury wasn't that bad.
"Why don't you take yourself seriously?" Harper asked.
Though it sounded like a complaint, to Francis, it was music to his ears.
Harper was showing concern, which was a good sign.
Francis thought he should've gotten hurt sooner.
His Adam's apple bobbed. "You'll have to help me take off my shirt."
"Ah." Harper blushed, feeling awkward. Helping a guy undress was a bit much for her.
Seeing her hesitation, Francis's eyes dimmed. "Forget it. I'll do it myself."
He raised his uninjured arm, struggling to unbutton his shirt.
He tried to take off the shirt with one arm but only got halfway. He sighed softly.
Harper's expression changed. "Does it hurt?"
Sometimes, admitting weakness was better.
Francis realized Harper responded better to softness.
His brows furrowed as he croaked, "A bit."
The smell of blood was strong. Harper bit her lip, making a decision. "Let me do it."
Francis almost smiled but kept a straight face.
Harper was still shy, avoiding looking at Francis's chest, and reached out tentatively.
She couldn't avoid touching his firm muscles. Her cool hands accidentally touched his nipple.
Francis gasped.
Harper quickly looked up. "What, does it hurt?"
Francis's brows lifted slightly. "Nothing."
Harper looked at where she touched, her face turning red. "Sorry."
"It's okay, keep going." Francis's low voice sounded strange.
Harper couldn't pinpoint what was strange, but her face was burning.
The car was cramped, and the shirt was stuck to the wound, so Harper had to be very careful.
The wound was on his back shoulder, so she had to tiptoe to see it.
She struggled a bit and said, "Turn around. I can't reach."
Francis turned, but Harper still couldn't reach. She knelt on the car seat, her upper body now level with his shoulder.
Her knees pressed into the leather seat, making it sink a bit. Francis noticed everything in the rearview mirror.
Harper saw his eyes looking forward and glanced over.
In the mirror, she was kneeling behind him, one hand on his shoulder, looking very close.
Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly said, "It's just more convenient."
Francis's lips curved, his eyes burning into her. "Mm, make you comfortable."
That clearly had a double meaning.
Harper's face turned red, but she couldn't call him out without sounding like a pervert.
Francis was really annoying.
Thinking this, Harper didn't go gentle, quickly taking off his shirt.
Francis's back was well-defined, muscles tight, exuding masculinity.
Harper took a deep breath, ignoring his impressive back, and checked the wound.
Luckily, the glass shard wasn't too deep, but there was a noticeable piece of glass in the wound, about the length of a fingertip.
Harper took out tweezers from the medical kit and warned him, "This might hurt. I need to take out the glass."
After receiving his affirmation, Harper carefully removed the glass shard and habitually blew on the wound, something she did for Agnes.
Francis's brows furrowed, his entire back tensed. The pain was bearable, but if she continued, he wouldn't be able to control himself.
After cleaning with alcohol and applying some medicine, he made it through the torturous process.
The last step was bandaging. The wound's location was tricky, requiring wrapping around his chest.
Harper took out gauze, her slender arms threading under his arm.
Francis's shoulders were too broad; her arms couldn't reach around. Her lips brushed against his back as she moved.
Francis's back was burning.
Harper froze, feeling awkward.
She pressed against his back and muttered, "Give me a hand."
Francis's large right hand pressed hers, took the gauze, and passed it to her after turning slightly.
Throughout, Harper's face was pressed against his back, otherwise, she couldn't reach the gauze.
It was too uncomfortable; she regretted not going to the hospital!
Finally, it was done.
Harper let out a long breath but forgot she was in the car, hitting her head on the roof and falling forward onto the seatback.
The seatback had an LCD screen, and hitting it would definitely hurt.
She cried out, closing her eyes. The next second, instead of hitting the screen, she fell into Francis's chest.
Her lips pressed tightly against his arm.
Instantly, she felt the tightness of the muscles under her lips.
Her face turned red as she struggled to push away.
But Francis's freshly bandaged back hit the seatback, causing him to hiss in pain.
Harper froze, seeing his pale face, her heart clenched.
She panicked. "Does it hurt?"
Francis's lips were tightly pressed, his chest heaving, looking like even speaking was difficult.
Harper reached out to check his back, worried the wound had reopened.
Before she could touch it, her right hand was tightly grasped by Francis's, their faces very close.
Francis's dark eyes locked onto her, his lips pale. "I might need painkillers."
Harper quickly asked, "Where is it?"
"Here." Francis suddenly lowered his head and kissed her.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
