Chapter 19

The First Session

POV: Karol Kensington

"Get behind me!" Ciro yelled in the dark.

His strong arm grabbed my hands and my waist. I quickly ran to his back and held my breath; I was scared to death.

Then, the light came on. The bright white lights of the medical room flashed back on.

I blinked and looked at the door. It wasn't the killer.

It was Mateo. He was dragging a heavy steel desk across the hallway floor to block the door.

"Sorry, boss," Mateo was breathing hard, wiping rain from his face. "The power line was cut. I just put on the generator; I am blocking this wing. No one is getting in."

I let out a breath and stepped away from Ciro. The killer was still out there in the storm, but we are locked inside.

"It is time," I said. My voice was cold and professional. "Get on the table."

Ciro did not argue. He wheeled himself to the therapy table and lifted himself up using his strong arms.

I grabbed a small black box with wires.

"What is that?" Ciro asked, watching me closely.

"A heart rate monitor," I answered. I walked up to him and strapped a black band around his chest. My fingers brushed his skin, and I felt his muscles jump.

"It tracks your stress. If your heart works too hard, your knee swells."

I stepped back and turned on the screen. A green line appeared. Beep... beep... beep... His resting heart rate was normal.

"Let's start with leg lifts," I said, pointing to his right leg. "Lift it slowly. Stop when it hurts. Do not push past the pain."

Ciro set his jaw. He slowly lifted his heavy leg. His face turned pale. I could see the pain in his eyes, but he made no sound.

He lifted it higher.

"Stop," I ordered. "That is enough for day one."

Ciro ignored me. He breathed harder and pushed his leg up another inch. His knee began to shake.

"Stop being stupid!" I yelled.

I pushed his leg back down to the table. He groaned and grabbed my wrists to push me away. But I leaned over him, pinning his leg down.

We were inches apart, both breathing hard.

"You do not need to prove anything to me," I snapped. "I don't pity you. If you tear that ligament again, my life is ruined. You will listen to my pace. Do you understand?"

We stared at each other. His bronze eyes burned into mine.

Slowly, the anger in his eyes changed into a dark, heavy heat.

"Fine, princess. Your pace."

I stepped back, my hands shaking. I grabbed a bottle of warm oil from the cart.

"Your muscles are too stiff," I said, my voice softer. "I need to massage the deep tissue. It will hurt. But it will help."

"Do it," he said, lying back.

I poured the warm oil into my hands, rubbed them together, and placed my hands just above his injured knee.

His skin was burning hot.

I pressed my thumbs deep into his thick thigh muscle. Ciro let out a soft cry. The monitor beeped a little faster. Beep-beep.

"Sorry," I whispered. "I have to press hard."

"Keep going," he said. His voice was very low.

I worked my hands slowly up his thigh, kneading the knots away. The room was quiet, except for the heavy rain and the steady sound of the heart monitor.

I moved my hands higher, working the muscle closer to his hip. The touch was driving me crazy. The pull between us got stronger. I tried to stay focused, but my heart raced.

Suddenly, the machine began to beep loudly.

Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!

I jumped and looked at the screen. His heart rate was shooting up.

I pulled my hands away in panic and looked at his face.

"Ciro? Does it hurt?" I asked quickly, leaning over him. "Should I stop?"

Ciro was not looking at his knee. He was looking right at me.

His chest rose and fell heavily. The arrogant mask was gone, leaving raw hunger in his eyes.

"It's not pain, Karol," he whispered, his voice thick.

Before I could pull away, his massive hand grabbed my waist. He pulled my hand right back down, pressing my palm firmly against his bare, hot thigh.

The monitor screamed a warning as his heart rate spiked even higher from my touch.

"Ciro," I breathed, my own heart hammering.

He pulled my hand slowly up his leg. "Don't stop, doctor."

I couldn't move. I was trapped in his gaze. The fire between us was about to explode.

But right then, the heavy steel door scraped violently across the floor.

Someone was pushing the door open.