I met his eyes evenly. “I’ll handle it.”
He glanced between us. For a brief second, I saw him recalculating the dynamic.
Raphael did not correct me. He did not interject. He did not take the paperwork. He simply stood there. I tucked the paperwork under my arm and adjusted my grip on the crutches.
“I appreciate it,” I added, in a polite but firm way.
“Of course,” the doctor replied. “We’ll be in touch.”
As he walked away, I felt the heat still buzzing under my skin.
I turned toward Raphael. He was looking at me with something I couldn’t immediately name. It wasn’t the irritation I was expecting, no . . . it was amusement.
“Do not,” I warned.
“I did nothing.”
“You were about to.”
“I was not.”
“You absolutely were.”
He tilted his head slightly, studying me.
“I allowed you to take the lead,” he said.
“Allowed . . . ” I muttered under my breath.
His mouth curved . . . not a smirk. Something softer.
I held his gaze for a second longer. That was new. He hadn’t overridden me. He hadn’t corrected the doctor. He hadn’t grabbed the paperwork out of my hand. He’d just . . . stood there. And let me.
The glower I’d been wearing faded without my permission.
He noticed.
“I prefer when you look at me like that,” he said quietly.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m not your adversary.”
The words caught in my chest. “You’re not,” I admitted.
He nodded once. “Good.”
We started toward the exit together as the automatic doors opened and sunlight spilled across the pavement.
“Wait here, I’ll pull the car around.”
As I watched him walk quickly across the parking lot, I realized something had shifted. The doctor had looked at him like he was in charge. I had corrected that. And Raphael had let me. For a man who loved control, that felt like something close to trust.
13
RAPHAEL
The doors of the clinic closed behind her with a soft hydraulic sigh. I helped Belle adjust herself carefully into the passenger seat, setting the paperwork on her lap like it was an assignment she hadn’t fully agreed to complete yet.
