Page 7 of Accidental Doctor Daddy

The air between us stretched taut, a trembling thread one breath away from breaking.

His hand wrapped around mine—warm, certain, a tether to something reckless and irresistible. I could still feel his words on my skin, still hear them in my head. The things he’d promised to do to me. The way he looked at me like I was already undone beneath him.

My ex never looked at me like that.

Not once in the last year.

He stopped touching me, stopped wanting me. I became invisible to him. A body he barely looked at. A body that was too soft, too full, too much.

But this man—this sinfully handsome stranger with a voice like gravel and hands made for sin—was staring at me like I was the most captivating thing on this island. Like I was worth devouring. Worth remembering.

And God help me, I wanted to be wanted.

Even if it was just for one night.

Even if I’d wake up tomorrow alone.

Maybe Carrie was right. Maybe I did need to run.

Maybe this—him—was exactly where I needed to run to.

I didn’t say anything. Just slid my hand into his and let him lead me.

We didn’t rush.

He didn’t pull or drag or speak. He didn’t have to. I followed, heart pounding, thighs still trembling, each step a surrender.

The soft thud of our sandals on the boardwalk. The rustle of wind through palm trees. The distant pulse of ocean waves brushing the shore. Everything else faded into a dream.

Resort lights glowed low around us—strings of lanterns and tiki torches lining the path like we were walking deeper into something holy and forbidden. The carved wood panels, the scent of hibiscus and sea salt… all of it blurred. The only thing I could feel clearly was the steady press of his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. Calming. Possessive.

By the time we reached his suite, my breath was already uneven.

Dom pulled a keycard from his pocket and opened the door with a quiet click. He stepped aside, letting me pass first.

The moment I crossed the threshold, I knew.

I was in trouble.

The suite was all dark woods and cool stone floors, soaked in low, golden light. Masculine. Sophisticated. Too perfect. The kind of place a man like him belonged.

It smelled like expensive cologne, aged whiskey, and something warm and clean that had to be uniquelyhim.

A balcony wrapped around the far side, floor-to-ceiling glass opening to an endless black ocean, moonlight glittering off the waves.

But none of it mattered.

Not the view. Not the room. Not the fact that I was standing in the kind of place most people only saw in magazines.

Because Dom’s eyes were locked on mine like I was the only thing in the room worth seeing.

And just like that, every ounce of doubt melted off my skin.

I was already his.

The door clicked shut with a nudge of his foot, and in the next second, his hand curled around the back of my neck, pulling me into a kiss that melted every ounce of hesitation.

Electric. Heady. Hungry.

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