Chapter 4

LARA

"Traffic."

"You live twenty minutes away."

"I stopped for coffee."

"Liar."

He turned.

Oh God.

His eyes. Those whiskey eyes. They pinned me to the spot like a butterfly on a board. He wasn't smiling. He was studying me the way I studied patients looking for something I didn't want him to find.

"The hospital assigned you to me,”  he said.

"You requested me." I said pointedly.

"I did."

"Why?"

He walked toward me slowly. Each step ate up the space between us until he was close enough that I could smell him. He smelled like soap and cedar and something underneath that was just... Him.

"Because you don't flinch," he said. "Because you look at me and see a body, not a monster. Because when you touched me I felt something I haven't felt in a long time."

My throat was dry. “What's that?"

"Curiosity."

He reached for my wrist. The same wrist Delson had bruised. The same wrist he had circled yesterday.

I pulled away.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't touch me." My voice came out harder than I expected. "I'm here to do a job. I'm here to check your wounds and monitor your recovery. I'm not here to be... Whatever this is."

His eyes didn't leave mine. "Whatever this is?"

"You know what I mean."

"I don't." He stepped closer. "Explain it to me."

"You're flirting with me."

"I'm not."

"You're standing shirtless in front of me asking about my bruises touching my wrist—"

"You touched me first." His voice was low. "In the hospital. You put your hands on my skin. You watched my body react. You saw me hard Dr. Lara. Don't pretend you didn't."

"What do you want from me? You don't even know me,”  I whispered shakily.

"I know enough," he said. His free hand came up to my face and his fingers brushed against my cheek. "I know you're a surgeon who married a monster because her father sold her. I know you haven't been touched with kindness in years, judging from the hungry look in your eyes.  I know you felt something when you stitched my wounds. It scared you."

I asked, "How do you know all that?"

"Because I make it my business to know everything about people who interest me,” he said. His thumb brushed against my lip. "And you, Dr. Lara, interest me very much."

I should have been offended and angry. I should have pushed him away. I should have told him he was wrong about everything. Instead I stood there trembling, while he held me like I was something

"Your husband.”  he said, "does he touch you like this?"

"That's none of your business " I replied.

"Does he touch you all?" he asked.

I started to say something. He interrupted me. "Elijah—"

"Does he make you feel good?" His voice was dark and rough. "Does he make you come? Does he hold you after? Does he look at you like you're the woman in the world?"

I said, "Stop."

"Or does he just take what he wants and leave you empty?" he asked.

I said, "Stop it!"

I pushed him hard. He stumbled back a step. His eyes. Then he smiled. It was a wolf- smile that made my stomach flip and my knees weak.

"There she is," he said. "There's the woman I've been looking for."

"I'm not a toy " I said, my voice shaking. "I'm not a puzzle for you to solve. I'm not a project. I'm a doctor. I'm here to do a job. If you touch me again I will report you to the medical board."

He laughed, a dark sound that settled deep in my chest and pulsed.

"Fine " he said. He walked to the couch and sat down patting the cushion next to him. "Come on Dr. Lara. Let's see how well you take care of me."

I stood there for a moment, my hands shaking, my heart racing, my head screaming at me to leave. But then, i thought about the fact that this was my full time job now, and if i left, I'd be going home straight. And that house…is not somewhere I want to be now. I thought about it hard. Then I walked to the couch and sat down.

His wounds were healing. I checked each one carefully and professionally ignoring the heat of his skin under my fingers. The heart-shaped mark on his torso was fading now that the cuts were closing. Soon it would just be scars.

"Who hurt you?" I asked, not looking at him.

"Someone who thought they could control me," he replied.

"Did they?" I asked.

"No " he said quietly. "No one controls me, Dr. Lara. Not anymore."

I finished my examination and sat back. "You're healing well. The stitches can come out in a days. I'll arrange for a nurse to—"

"No,” he said coldly.

"No?" I asked.

"You'll remove them yourself, " he replied.

"That's not necessary,” I said.

"I want you here,”  he said. His eyes met mine. "I want you to be the one who touches me."

"That's inappropriate " I said.

"Everything about this is inappropriate " he said, leaning closer. "Your husband hates me. Your hospital board is using you as a bargaining chip. You... You're sitting on my couch pretending you don't want me.”

God, the nerve of this man.

"I don't—"

"You do," he said. His hand found my knee just resting there heavy and warm. "You want to know what it feels like to be wanted to be touched by someone who actually sees you."

I should have moved his hand, but I didn't.

"I'm married,” I said.

"I don't care,” he replied.

"My husband will kill you if he finds out,”  I said.

A loud laugh erupted from his throat.  " Let him try.”

"Elijah—"

"Lara,”  he said. His hand slid up my thigh, an inch just enough to make me gasp. "I'm not going to sleep with you. Not yet. Not until you ask me. Not until you beg."

"I won't beg. Why the fuck would I want to beg you?” I said.

"You will,”  he replied. His thumb traced a circle on my leg. "You've been starving for long you don't even remember what hunger feels like.. I'll remind you. I'll make you feel things you've never felt. When you're ready you'll come to me."

"You're arrogant,” I said.

"I'm patient,”  he replied, smiling. "There's a difference."

I stood up, my legs shaking, my body on fire.

"I'll come back tomorrow to check your wounds,” I said.

"I know you will,”  he replied.

I walked to the door. My hand was on the handle when he spoke again.

"Lara,” he called.

“I'll be waiting for you tomorrow.” He said, but i didn't wait any longer. I walked out.

I made it to my car, locked the doors and pressed my forehead against the steering wheel.

My thighs were wet. Fuck,  I needed to relieve myself.

I drove home immediately, only to find Delson standing by the doorway, his eyes blazing.

“You're late,” he growled.