Page 58 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

Bringing one to her, I watch her face as she examines it. She looks it over from every angle, humming appreciatively and turning it in her fingers.

Then she takes a big bite, her lips wrapping around a generous piece, and my throat goes dry. She chews slowly, her eyes closing, and then she licks her lips.

Fucking hell, that does something to me.

I ignore the way my body heats, the way my pulse kicks up a notch, and force myself to focus on the cookie, not her mouth.

“How is it?” I ask.

She moans into the next bite, her eyes still closed. “Oh, my God. This is the best thing I’ve ever had. How the hell did you make this?”

“It’s a basic cookie recipe,” I say with a shrug, trying to play it cool, even though her praise swells my chest. And it makes me want to tell her it’s my mother’s recipe, but I don’t want to talk about my family or personal things. Because talking about those things makes it harder to keep the wall up. And I need to stay professional.

“It’s just… it’s too good to believe you actually made it.”

“Well, believe it.” I glance back toward the kitchen, already thinking about what else I could make her. Something that would get that reaction again. The closed eyes, the little moan, the completely unguarded pleasure. I could do a proper dinner...

“You’re going to have to show me,” she says, dusting the crumbs from her hands. “Because that was incredible.”

“You want more?” I ask.

Her eyes linger on the plate. “No, I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m on TV,” she explains with a small grimace. “I can’t really afford to be eating twenty cookies in one sitting. And now I’m not moving around as much…” She trails off, gesturing vaguely to her injury.

My eyes drop over her body, causing a gentle fire to grow within me—the curve of her waist, the way her sweats sit on her hips. “You look great to me,” I say before I can stop myself.

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and she mumbles, “Thanks.” Then, after a pause, “Maybe one more won’t hurt.”

I nod and go get one for each of us. She inhales hers again, savoring every bite, her eyes closing, and I feel it turn the fire into an inferno inside me. Because watching her enjoy something I made is becoming its own problem entirely.

“You definitely have to teach me this recipe,” she says around a mouthful.

“I can do that. But I’ll need to get some more ingredients when I go out to grab things for dinner anyway.” I gesture at the near-empty cupboards. “You fainted today. Your blood pressure dropped. You need protein, not just sugar and painkillers on an empty stomach. That’s how we end up back at the hospital.”

“Shut up,” she laughs, throwing a small pillow at me weakly. “Stop judging me.”

I laugh, actually laugh, and head back to the kitchen, grabbing my laptop from my bag. I did make a damn good cookie. I chew the last bite of mine as I power up the computer and slip my glasses on, settling at the dining table where I can still see her on the sofa.

Her eyelids are getting heavy, drooping as she fights to keep them open. She’s finished her sandwich, tea, and cookies. Now she’s relaxed and happy.

And for some weird reason, that makes me feel happy too.

I should be miserable. I’m essentially babysitting, stuck here when I could be working, doing surgeries, seeing patients. Yet she doesn’t make me feel that way. It’s kind of like hanging out with a friend.

Except she’s not a friend.

She’s a patient, I remind myself firmly. A patient I’m dangerously attracted to. One who, not long ago, I thought about kissing, and I’m pretty sure she was thinking the same thing.

I need to keep my distance. Otherwise, I don’t know what could happen.

And I can’t afford to lose my job. It’s everything to me. I’m on my last warning at the hospital after the disciplinary review, after Peltz made it abundantly clear that one more misstep and I’m done. No OR. No patients. No career. Everything I’ve sacrificed to be the senior surgeon will be gone. All because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself.

No matter how much I want to walk back over there, sit beside her on the sofa, and pull her into my arms... I force my eyes back to the computer screen and try to focus on anything else.

Chapter 22