Chapter 59: Claire Kendall, Have You No Shame?

Chapter 59: Chapter 59: Claire Kendall, Have You No Shame?

"That won’t be necessary."

Miles Warren reverted to his usual cold demeanor, fastening the last button on his shirt.

Once off the bed, he resumed his air of detached elegance.

The glimmer of anticipation in Claire Kendall’s eyes dimmed.

She leaned back slightly, her smooth, fair toes hooking the hem of his shirt as she let out a soft scoff.

"Dr. Warren, you’re really no fun at all."

She threw off the thin blanket, took the new clothes Miles Warren had someone deliver, undid the buttons on her qipao, and slipped it right off.

Miles Warren immediately averted his gaze, turning his back to her.

The rustling sound of fabric was exceptionally clear in his ears.

His voice was strained. "Claire Kendall, have you no shame?"

Claire Kendall tossed the qipao onto the messy bed and changed into the new clothes.

As she dressed, she stared at the man’s back, a slight smile playing on her red lips.

"Shame? It’s not like you didn’t touch me last night."

Her voice trembled slightly at the end. "I helped you so much, my hand was about to fall off. You’re so heartless, Dr. Warren."

"Claire Kendall." The man’s voice was low and carried a warning tone, but the tips of his ears still flushed red.

Claire Kendall took it all in but didn’t call him out on it, simply straightening her long dress.

"What are you going to do about Rosalind Linden?"

Only then did Miles Warren turn back around and see her in the long dress.

It had less of the qipao’s allure, and more of a fresh, natural temptation.

He lowered his gaze, his tone calm and flat.

"Back up the surveillance footage, secure the evidence, call the police, and trace the source of the drug."

Decisive, clear-headed, and without a hint of hesitation. This was very Miles Warren.

Claire Kendall’s eyes shifted, her voice tinged with amusement.

"Of course we’ll call the police, but let’s not be hasty." The corners of her eyes curved, glinting with cunning.

"Drugging you, finding a stand-in... she went to all this trouble to set such a big trap. We should at least let her finish her performance and see what she’s really after."

He nodded, tacitly agreeing to her wait-and-see approach.

The breakfast area of the top-floor restaurant at the international summit was bustling with people.

Rosalind Linden’s eyes lit up as she walked toward Miles Warren.

But when she saw Claire Kendall following closely behind him, her lips tightened for a moment before relaxing back to normal.

She tilted her head back slightly, blatantly revealing the mottled, suggestive marks on her neck.

She spoke timidly, with a hint of shy embarrassment.

"Miles, it was so late last night, and I was so tired I just fell asleep... How did you wake up so early?"

Rosalind Linden’s voice was pitched just right—not too loud, not too soft—so that everyone around them could hear clearly.

Suggestive and curious glances converged on Miles Warren and Rosalind Linden.

Miles Warren was annoyed, but then he met Claire Kendall’s playful, mischievous eyes.

He didn’t refute her, just gave a deadpan nod in response.

Rosalind Linden’s lips curved into a smile. She shot a disdainful and triumphant glance at Claire Kendall before taking two more steps forward.

"Miles, have breakfast with me."

She tried to loop her arm through his, but he subtly sidestepped her.

"I have things to do. I’m leaving." Miles Warren turned and walked away, shooting an incredibly mournful look at Claire Kendall.

The gentle smile on Rosalind Linden’s face vanished along with Miles Warren’s retreating back.

She crossed her arms. "Claire Kendall, I told you long ago, you and Miles Warren will never work out."

She lowered her voice, taunting, "He was working hard in my bed all night."

"Oh—well, that must have been so hard on you."

"You can drop the sarcasm. Jealousy won’t get you anywhere, and neither will clinging to him. He’s mine now." Rosalind Linden walked away in her high heels, looking utterly smug.

It was the last day of the exhibition in the first-floor hall for non-tangible cultural heritage products.

Claire Kendall was squatting on the floor, struggling to hold a cardboard box filled with silk samples.

The box was heavy, and her cream-colored long dress made it difficult to move. The bangs on her forehead swayed slightly with her exertion.

Claire Kendall took a deep breath and was about to try heaving it up again when a well-defined hand steadily took one side of the box.

"Where does this go?"

Miles Warren took the box, the muscles in his arms clearly defined.

Claire Kendall pointed to a table. Miles Warren carried it over, bent down, and set it down with clean, efficient movements.

She said with a beaming smile, "Thank you, Dr. Warren."

He didn’t reply. His gaze swept over her slightly reddened knuckles, and his eyes darkened.

"Is there anything else to move?"

Claire Kendall leaned in closer. "Dr. Warren, is this a little quid pro quo?"

A flicker of confusion appeared in his eyes.

She blinked, explaining earnestly, "I helped you last night, and now you’re helping me today. Isn’t that quid pro quo?"

Wendy White, who was standing nearby, chimed in, "Claire, what did you help Dr. Warren with?"

"Well, you see—" Claire Kendall drew out the words.

The man before her was visibly turning "red."

’He’s so easy to tease.’

More and more people gathered in front of the Moonstone booth. Besides looking at the Flowing Light Brocade, the young women’s attention was focused on Miles Warren.

He stood tall and straight with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Dressed in a crisp shirt and trousers and wearing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, he had the air of a perfect gentleman who was secretly a villain.

An idea sparked in Claire Kendall’s mind. She looked up at Miles Warren, her voice soft and sweet.

"Dr. Warren, since you’re already helping, you might as well go all the way."

He glanced down slightly, his eyes questioning.

Claire Kendall immediately picked up a bolt of raw Flowing Light Brocade and draped it over the crook of the man’s arm.

"Dr. Warren, look at this material. Isn’t it beautiful?"

Her fingers brushed against his wrist, her breath warm on his skin.

"Just stand here and don’t move. Be our living advertisement for a little while."

He wanted to refuse.

Claire Kendall could tell, so she deliberately dragged out her words.

"If that qipao hadn’t been ruined, I wouldn’t have to resort to displaying the raw material like this."

"It’s all your fault from last night—"

Miles Warren cut her off before she could finish her outrageous words.

He pursed his lips and conceded, "I’ll stand."

Miles Warren was a natural-born model. Just by standing there holding the raw material, he attracted a lot of customers, which was then compounded by her skillful presentation.

Touching, inquiring, customizing... The number of orders placed and deposits paid increased significantly.

Claire Kendall and Wendy White were swamped.

Miles Warren appeared expressionless, but the involuntary tightening of his jawline betrayed his fluttering emotions.

With every move she made, she was so close that her scent filled his senses.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the entrance of the exhibition hall.

A group of people walked in, surrounding a woman, their voices an endless stream of flattery.

"Ms. Joyce, you’re finally back! It’s been a while."

"Ms. Joyce, we just got a new shipment of leather from Italy. Would you care to take a look?"

"Ms. Joyce, about the acquisition, perhaps we could discuss it further?"

Lindsay Joyce wore a gray haute couture suit, with large sunglasses covering half her face. She was slender, yet she exuded the powerful aura of someone long accustomed to being in charge.

Claire Kendall was in the middle of introducing the Flowing Light Brocade fabric to a customer.

When she saw her, she froze.

At that same moment, Lindsay Joyce was taking off her sunglasses and looking her way.

Their gazes met across the distance.

Lindsay Joyce immediately looked away, ignoring her as if she hadn’t seen her at all.

She casually handed her sunglasses and bag to the assistant behind her and walked straight into the venue.

’It’s been almost six years.’

Claire Kendall had imagined their reunion countless times, but she never thought it would happen so suddenly.

’Does her return mean she’s preparing to find a new owner for OCHH?’

’But none of that has anything to do with me anymore.’

’What happened back then...’

Her emotions churning, Claire Kendall lowered her head and pretended to be busy organizing the display table.

The arm with which Miles Warren was holding the Flowing Light Brocade moved slightly.

His gaze was fixed intently on Claire Kendall.

He keenly sensed the shift in her mood.

Before he could ask, an even more piercing voice rang out.

"Senior Claire!"