“I'm just concerned there won't be anyone to cook for me," Marcus retorted, his tone more amiable.

Despite his duplicitous nature, he poured her a glass of water and urged, "Take the medicine."

While Marcus enjoyed teasing her under normal circumstances, he felt a responsibility to care for her in sickness.

Despite the small and aged surroundings, Melissa maintained her self-esteem.

As she silently took the medicine, her eyes grew even redder.

When she looked up, Marcus revealed two takeout boxes, evidently delivered from a five-star hotel.

The question lingered-Was he planning to have dinner here?

Observing her trance, Marcus lifted his chin and remarked, “Aren't you hungry? I am."

Finally snapping out of her reverie, Melissa hastily pulled a chair for him and wiped the table.

A sudden wave of embarrassment washed over her.

Silently, Marcus observed her, his eyes bearing a gentle expression.

Melissa settled into her seat, took a bite, and spoke up softly.

“Don't trouble yourself. Besides, this place is not suitable for someone of your taste and distinction."

Marcus continued to gaze at her, his expression unwavering.

Her heart raced unexpectedly, leaving her almost bewildered as she gazed at him.

Out of the blue, Marcus drew near.

Gently, he kissed her crimson lips and uttered in a husky, seductive tone, "If you don't feel like eating, we can find something else to do."

Melissa found herself almost paralyzed, unable to move.

Her eyes remained fixed on the man before her, and in comparison to her own unease, he appeared dazzling.

To her, he was like an unattainable luxury displayed in a shop window.