Page 62 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

“He’s my doctor, and I’m his patient,” I say firmly, as much to remind myself as her. Because yes, he’s attractive. Yes, there’s something between us, this crackling tension that makes my skin feel too tight, but there are rules for a reason.

“You’re not at the hospital,” she counters.

“That doesn’t matter. It’s still unethical, and I need to focus on getting better. Tomorrow, I’m back at work.”

“Oh, that’s good. Are they letting you?” Her voice shifts to concern. “Do you have any pain?”

I look down at my elevated leg, where Zac carefully placed two pillows under it, adjusting them until the angle was perfect. His hands were gentle despite his gruff demeanor, his fingers barely grazing my leg but leaving heat in their wake. “No. I have a dull ache here and there, but mainly need the strong medication at night. The daytime stuff is manageable.”

“So, what’s the plan tonight? Please tell me it involves him shirtless, wearing a stethoscope. Maybe cooking in that attire…”

I laugh. “Dinner and an early night. But…” I pause for dramatic effect, “Zac can bake cookies.”

“Wait, is his name actually Zac?” Her voice pitches up. “That’s his real name?”

“Yep,” I answer, unable to keep the dry, amused edge out of my voice.

“Hot name.”

“It is a hot name.”

“But sorry to tell you, babe, anyone can bake cookies. It’s not hard. You buy the tube of dough, slice it, throw it in the oven.”

“No, not like that. I mean, from scratch. Like, he listed ingredients. Flour, butter, vanilla extract. The whole thing.”

“Oh, whaaat?” She’s nearly shrieking now. “Sexy Sterling is a double master with his hands? Surgery and baking?”

“Oh, he is.” I giggle, my cheeks warming. And I’m not just thinking about baking. I’m thinking about those hands carrying me tightly, touching me.

“This is too good.”

“He’s also less of an asshole.” I hold back a laugh. “Well, less than he was at first, I mean.”

“What do you mean? Has something happened?”

“No, but he isn’t so snappy with me anymore. He’s still gruff, but…” I try to find the words. “There are moments when he smiles, or when he teases me back. But I did try to ask about Dr. Peltz—he’s Zac’s boss—and he completely shut down. Like, physically tensed up and changed the subject. Something’s definitely going on there.”

There is the keyboard tapping on her end. Brooke’s in research mode.

She whistles down the line. “Well, this might be why.”

I shuffle on the sofa, my pulse quickening. Something in her tone makes me freeze, every muscle instantly locking up. “What? What did you find out?”

“I just typed in his name, and there’s an article about him.” She pauses, and there is the distinct sound of her mouse clicking. “About a complaint.”

“What? You’re kidding?” I gasp, my stomach dropping like I’ve missed a step. My hand grips the phone tighter. “What kind?”

“I’m reading it now… Oh shit. Oh, this is bad.” She’s quiet for a minute. “He was almost in a fight with a patient’s family member and, uh, there’s also one about you.”

“There is?” The words scramble past the sudden lump in the throat. “What? How?”

“Yep. I’m sending you both. Hold on.”

My phone beeps, and I pull it away from my ear, clicking on the links she sends. As I open the first one, my hands shake slightly.

SURGEON’S TEMPER PROBLEM?

Dr. Zachary Sterling’s Disciplinary Past Resurfaces