Lingering Doting Marriage: Big Boss, Little Sweet Heart

Chapter 1722: Chapter 1712: Actually, He Has Been Restraining Himself

"You know?" Enna Clark looked up, not understanding if he meant he knew she didn’t do it on purpose or that he knew she was there.

Lyle Westbrook didn’t answer her but suddenly grabbed her hand and pressed her to sit on the sofa, pursing his thin lips silently as he took out the item from the bag he had just given to Enna Clark.

Inside was actually ointment.

Enna Clark was momentarily dazed.

He silently but assertively pulled her left hand over, his gaze fixed on her bruised wrist, left by Baron Lawrence’s out-of-control grip.

"Does it hurt?"

Enna Clark felt that this position was too ambiguous, and the way Lyle Westbrook asked the question was too suggestive. She instinctively tried to pull her hand back, awkwardly saying, "... It’s nothing, it doesn’t hurt. Baron Lawrence didn’t really squeeze hard, he just lost control emotionally."

Baron Lawrence indeed didn’t squeeze with real force, otherwise, her wrist wouldn’t just be bruised but might have hurt the bone.

As for her wrist looking terrifying, Enna Clark knew it didn’t really relate to how much force Baron used.

Her skin was just too delicate, leaving marks with the slightest pressure.

So, her wrist only looked startlingly bruised, but there wasn’t any real injury.

In any case, not as severe as the punch the man who left home had brutally hit against the wall before he left.

Lyle Westbrook’s peach blossom eyes flickered with a hint of displeasure, his thin lips pursed tightly, and he firmly held her hand, preventing her from moving as he gently said, "Don’t move, I’ll help you apply the ointment."

Though his voice and expression were gentle, there was an irresistible kind of authority about it.

Enna Clark frowned slightly; unable to pull her hand out, she felt embarrassed to forcefully withdraw it.

She could only let him help apply the ointment.

However, she remained distracted throughout, not even noticing when Lyle Westbrook finished applying the ointment.

After finishing, Lyle Westbrook put the ointment back in his pocket and said, "I asked the orthopedic doctor, this ointment works well for bruises. Though it smells a bit unpleasant, apply it morning and night, and in two or three days, the bruises on your wrist will fade."

Enna Clark accepted the bag, still looking distracted, barely managing to say, "Thank you."

Lyle Westbrook wasn’t blind. He could see she wasn’t in the mood to talk to him. Standing up, he said, "Enna, you don’t look well. Rest for a while. I still have some matters to handle at the hospital."

He paused and added, "You can rest first and then go to the hospital, it’s fine. I’ll arrange for someone to look after Gigi and them. Don’t force yourself over, otherwise they’ll notice and get worried."

Gigi was still young and perhaps wouldn’t notice anything.

But Bobby was no longer young and was smart. If Enna Clark went now, he would surely notice something.

With Bobby’s initiative, who knows what trouble he might stir up.

Enna Clark thought the same, nodding, "Okay."

Then, she stood up and said, "I’ll see you off."

Lyle Westbrook held back, glancing at her face, his peach blossom eyes swirling with emotions she couldn’t understand. He didn’t speak but first gazed down at the startling marks on her wrist; looking back up, his eyes bore a new resolve. Lyle quietly clenched his fist and said silently, "No need, my driver is waiting outside."

"Rest well, I have something to discuss with you. Get some rest first."

"What is it?"

"Rest first, we’ll talk when you feel better."