Page 47 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

He nods slowly, his expression shifting to something more serious, one hand coming up to loosen his tie. “You are. I wanted to talk to you before then.”

His tone makes my stomach clench, a knot of anxiety forming in my chest. Whatever he’s about to say, it’s not good news.

I remain quiet, my hands twitching, waiting for him to speak. He shifts from one foot to the other.

“I spoke to your manager and the network.”

Panic ripples through me, not knowing what that means.

“Okay…”

Mr. Peltz’s hands clasp in front of him. “The network’s insurance company has been in contact with us.” His tone shifts, more businesslike now. “Because of the two falls, their legal team is concerned about liability. You’re the face of the production, and if anything else happens before filming wraps, they’re looking at a significant lawsuit.”

“Against the hospital?”

“No, Miss Morgan, against everyone.” He says it plainly. “The town, the production, us. So the network made a request—a demand, really—that we provide a dedicated senior medical doctor to oversee your home recovery. Someone who can guarantee you’re cleared for camera on schedule.”

The words hit me in the chest, making it hard to breathe. But I don’t let him see how much this terrifies me.

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means we’re giving you our best.” There’s pride in his voice as his chest puffs out slightly.

Hope builds inside me. I’ll agree to almost anything right now. I just want to keep my job. Whatever compromise he’s worked out, whatever hoops I need to jump through, I’ll do it.

“Dr. Sterling will be your personal physician for the duration of your recovery. From the time you wake until you go to sleep.”

My jaw drops. The air seems to leave my lungs in a rush. Images of Dr. Sterling’s intense gaze and broad shoulders flash through my mind… the way his shirt stretches across his chest, the competent strength in his hands when he examined me earlier, his voice that seems to vibrate through my whole body.

This can’t be happening. Being around him for a few minutes at a time is manageable. I can keep my composure, keep that inappropriate attraction at bay. But all day? Every day? The thought sends my pulse racing for all the wrong reasons.

“What’s the reasoning?” I try to keep my voice level, even as my heart hammers against my ribs.

“You don’t like the idea?” His eyebrows lift, his head tilting as he studies me.

“No, that’s not it. I’m just confused about how he’s going to help?” The words come out rushed and defensive. “I haven’t injured myself again.” I laugh. “Except maybe a bruised ego.”

He smiles gently. “It’s part of your character, and it’s endearing. But the network needs someone accountable. Dr. Sterling is our most qualified senior surgeon. If they’re going to trust anyone to protect their investment, it’s him.”

My mind races, searching for alternatives, anything to avoid this arrangement that feels both like a lifeline and a trap. The logical part of my brain knows this solves the problem with Dain. The rest of me is screaming that spending every waking hour with a man who makes me forget how to form coherent sentences is a terrible idea.

“Why don’t I get a bodyguard?” I ask in a last desperate attempt at finding another solution.

Because I could hire one who I don’t find attractive. One who doesn’t make my skin feel too tight. One whose voice doesn’t send shivers down my spine.

“No.” Mr. Peltz’s tone is final, his expression settling in a way that tells me this isn’t up for negotiation. “The network agreed to Dr. Sterling, specifically, and he’s agreed to do it.”

Surprise washes over me, momentarily overriding the panic. “He has?”

Dr. Sterling agreed to this? To spending his days looking after me? The man who seems to barely tolerate inefficiency, who moves with purposeful strides and clipped professionalism, agreed to shadow me like I’m some kind of liability he needs to manage? Either Mr. Peltz is a very persuasive man, or the network’s demands left no room for argument. The thought that he might have agreed willingly sends a dangerous warmth through my chest that I immediately try to suppress.

“Yes. He’ll start tomorrow,” Mr. Peltz says with such certainty, as if he hasn’t just upended my life.

Tomorrow? Shit, that’s way too soon. My heart hammers against my ribs, each beat seeming to say, I’m not ready. I need time to prepare, time to build my defenses back up, time to remember all the reasons why this attraction is inappropriate and impossible.

“But he said I could leave today.”

He smiles, seemingly oblivious to my distress. “The network wanted you in overnight. Dr. Sterling will work out the details with you shortly.”