Page 13 of Under His Guard

Clara

After getting Luke’s text about his address, I head over once my shift is done.

It’s been a long day, and I’m ready to get off my feet, so the idea of tending to another patient is truly annoying…at least it would be if it wasn’t him.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Luke Shaw—my patient and the guy who’s apparently paying me three hundred dollars an hour to help him with his injury.

What the hell are you doing, Clara? There’s still time to call this off. Just turn around and send a text to?—

But my thoughts are cut short when I pull up to the exceptionally tall building, at least as far as Hildale Port goes.

I’ve seen it from the highway before, but actually pulling up to the thing is a different matter.

It’s sleek and modern, with no expense spared in its creation. Immaculate grounds and exterior amenities cover the place.

Manicured lawns? A statue of a mermaid? Really?

A security booth sits at the parking entrance, so I drive to the window and wait for the guard to acknowledge me.

When he comes to the window, I roll my window down and offer a polite smile.

“Hello, ma’am. Your business, please.”

“I’m here to see Luke Shaw. I’m his, um, doctor.”

The guy just nods, looking down at a clipboard. “Name?”

“Oh, uh, Clara Stewart.”

Recognition lights up behind his eyes, and he addresses me with a grin. “Great. Thank you, Dr. Stewart. Please use the guest stalls for parking in the garage. Mr. Shaw is on floor twelve.”

He offers me a guest badge, and I raise my brows, asking, “I wasn’t given an apartment number. Which one is he in?”

The security guard laughs as chatter comes over the radio on his shoulder. “Just floor twelve, miss.”

“Oh, okay.”

Confusion still swirls, but I pull forward and find a place to park. As I tuck the visitor badge onto my dashboard, I double-check my face in the rearview mirror.

I look tired. Because of course, I am, but it’s not exactly the presentation I want to give a guy well into the upper tax brackets.

Or one so good-looking.

I shake that thought out of my head and focus on smoothing down my scrubs as I walk to the elevator.

The parking garage is pristine, which is odd, honestly, and the inside of the elevator is just as nice.

I fidget with my lanyard the entire ride up, playing with the ID badge as I clip and unclip it from the holder.

It’s fine. He’s attractive, yes. Rich? Yes. But you got this. Just help him out, get paid the money to help with Beth’s surgery, and move on with your life.

The elevator dings, and when the doors open, I see a single door at the far end of a short hall.

I go over, ringing the bell, and wait for Luke to answer.

“Mr. Shaw. He’s just Mr. freaking Shaw.”

Suddenly, the door cracks open wide, and I’m face-to-face with all those good looks again.

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