Chapter 4

　　Damian

　　I pulled my car up beside her and lowered the window before she reached the door. "Elara Green," I called out, my tone steady. "You left your bag in my hospital bed."

　　She turned toward me, and the moment her eyes landed on the passenger seat, her expression tightened. Her bag was sitting there, placed neatly like it belonged.

　　She approached the car cautiously. "Why do you have my bag?"

　　"Selective listening? I said you left it in my clinic," I said simply and unlocked the passenger door, "Get in."

　　Her hand froze mid-motion. "Excuse me?"

　　"I'll drive you home," I said, watching her carefully.

　　"I don't need a ride," she answered immediately, straightening as if offended by the idea.

　　I tilted my head slightly. "You walked into my hospital complaining that walking hurts."

　　She hesitated, still clearly annoyed, but eventually she opened the door and climbed in. The car door shut with a firm click, and silence settled between us as I started driving.

　　"Why did you just walk away after last night?" I said, not taking my eyes off the road.

　　"So that was really you?" she asked slowly. "And, you recognize me all this time?"

　　"I recognized you the moment I saw you in the examination room," I admitted without hesitation.

　　Her eyes widened sharply. "And you didn't say anything?"

　　"No," I replied. "I was curious how long it would take you to figure it out."

　　Her disbelief was almost immediate. "So you sat there, pretending you didn't know me, while asking me all those ridiculous questions?"

　　I adjusted my grip on the steering wheel, leaning slightly back. "I asked medically relevant questions."

　　"You asked me to estimate a man's penis," she shot back, her voice rising.

　　I couldn't help but laugh. "I was gathering context."

　　She looked so pissed and folded her arms tightly across her chest. "You're disgusting."

　　"That wasn't what I heard when you were riding me," I said and raised a brow. "You walked into my room that night."

　　Her head snapped toward me. "I was drunk."

　　"You were still persuasive," I replied evenly.

　　Her face turned slightly red. "That is not how I remember it."

　　"That's unfortunate," I said. "Because I remember it very clearly."

　　"You're acting like I did something terrible to you."

　　I glanced at her. "Did you not?"

　　Her head turned sharply. "Excuse me?"

　　I kept my tone level, almost thoughtful. "You entered my room without warning, disrupted my sleep, and left without a word."

　　"That sounds very dramatic when you say it like that," she muttered.

　　"I prefer accuracy," I replied. "You intruded my space and begged for me to ruin you in any way possible."

　　She stared at me in disbelief. "I did not—"

　　"Baby," I said lightly, "you even called me 'daddy'."

　　That shut her up.

　　After a few blocks, she looked at me, more sharply this time. "So what, are you saying that I victimized you? What do you want? A rematch?"

　　I glanced at her. "Why not?"

　　Her eyes widened slightly, then she scoffed. "Really? Sure then."

　　"It's a deal," I answered with a smirk. "Give me your number," I added and handed her my phone.

　　She muttered something under her breath, but still took the phone.

　　While she typed, I watched her briefly. The irritation was still there, but so was something else—hesitation, maybe even awareness she didn't want to acknowledge.

　　When she finished, she handed the phone back.

　　I checked the contact once and set it down. "You'll need a follow-up examination in a few days."

　　Her reaction was immediate. "A real follow-up or another one of your... situations?"

　　"Medically necessary," I said without hesitation.

　　She rolled her eyes but didn't argue further. "Fine."

　　**

　　I couldn't stop thinking about her.

　　No woman had occupied this much space in my head in years. Which was exactly why I was looking forward to her follow-up appointment far more than I should have.

　　When she finally walked into my office, I immediately noticed the cautious look in her eyes. It was the same look she always gave me whenever she suspected I was about to say something annoying.

　　Unfortunately for her, she was usually right.

　　"Miss Green," I said as I glanced at her chart. "How was your thigh?"

　　"Good," she said. "Not aching often anymore."

　　I raised a brow looked down at her chart. "You sound disappointed. I suspect you were hoping for a more dramatic diagnosis."

　　She stared at me. "Why would I hope for that?"

　　"So you could blame me for it."

　　"I already blame you for enough things."

　　That answer made me smile. Most people became nervous around me. Elara became argumentative, and I found it ridiculously attractive.

　　"Lie on the table," I said. "You know the drill."

　　As Elara removed her clothing and her skin was once again exposed before my eyes, I immediately felt that tightness in my pants.

　　"You really enjoy this, don't you?" she asked, glaring at me.

　　"Which remind me of our deal," I said simply while checking her thighs and the parts I forced that night.

　　After completing the examination, I removed my gloves and made a few notes in her file.

　　"Everything looks good," I said. "The irritation has resolved. You're healing well."

　　Relief immediately appeared on her face. "Great. Then I guess I'm done here."

　　"That depends," I said.

　　Her brows furrowed. "On what?"

　　I set down my pen and met her gaze. "Do you remember our deal?"

　　The room became quiet. For a moment, she looked like she was considering pretending not to know what I meant.

　　Then she sighed. "Yes."

　　"Good."

　　She folded her arms across her chest. "You sound very pleased with yourself."

　　Reaching for a notepad, I wrote something down before tearing off the page and sliding it across the desk.

　　She picked it up.

　　Then looked back at me. "Whose address is this?"

　　"My address," I confirmed.

　　Elara stared at the paper for several seconds. "You actually planned this."

　　"I prefer preparation over luck," I said. "You agreed, we do it in my place."

　　I could practically see the argument happening inside her mind. Every sensible instinct she possessed was telling her to refuse.

　　The problem was that she wanted to say yes.

　　Finally, she released a long breath. "Fine."

　　The word was reluctant, but it was still a yes. Something in my chest eased immediately.

　　"Fine?" I repeated.

　　She pointed a finger at me. "Don't make me take it back."

　　I leaned back in my chair, unable to stop the smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "I wouldn't dream of it," I replied. "See you later, Elara."