Page 2 of Tempted By the Handsome Doctor

God, this is a disaster. What am I doing?

The automatic doors slide open, and cool, antiseptic air washes over me. The lobby bustles with activity—nurses speed-walking with purpose, visitors clutching wilting flower arrangements, patients being wheeled to and from various departments. I force myself toward the information desk, where an older woman with steel-gray hair and kind eyes looks up at me.

"Can I help you, dear?" she asks.

"I'm looking for Dr. Morrison," I manage. "Daniel Morrison."

"Oh, Dan!" Her face lights up with recognition, and relief floods through me. He exists. "Are you a patient?"

"No, I'm..." What am I? A one-night stand? A walking catastrophe? "I'm a friend. I need to speak with him about something important."

She eyes me with a hint of suspicion, then softens. "He's just finishing up his shift in the ER. If you want to wait, you can have a seat in the cafeteria. It's down that hallway, make a left at the gift shop."

"Thank you," I say, already backing away.

The cafeteria is half-full, mostly with staff in various colored scrubs hunched over coffee cups. I buy a tea, and find a table in the corner with a clear view of the entrance.

And then I wait.

Ten minutes pass. Twenty. I've shredded my paper napkin into confetti and am working on destroying the cardboard sleeve from my cup when my phone buzzes.

*Status update?* Lisa texts.

*In hospital cafeteria. Waiting.*

*He works there?*

*Apparently.*

*Holy shit.*

Holy shit indeed.

I'm typing a response when the cafeteria door swings open, and suddenly, there he is.

Daniel Morrison in the daylight. Daniel Morrison in scrubs, looking exhausted and somehow even more handsome than he did in the dim lighting of Finch's Bar. His hair is messier than I remember, brown strands sticking up like he's been running his hands through it. He has a stethoscope slung around his neck and dark circles under his eyes that match mine.

My heart pounds so hard I'm certain everyone can hear it. The cafeteria seems to shrink, tunneling until he's all I can see. I'm frozen, tea clutched in my white-knuckled grip, as he approaches the coffee station.

He hasn't noticed me yet. I could still leave. I could walk out right now and figure this out on my own. I don't need him. I've been taking care of myself since Dad got sick. I can handle this, too.

But then he turns, coffee in hand, and his tired green eyes land on me.

For a moment, he just stares, coffee suspended halfway to his lips. I watch recognition dawn on his face—followed quickly by something that looks remarkably like panic.

"Maya?" he says, and I hate hearing him say my name. He doesn't deserve it.

I stand up, smoothing my skirt with damp palms. "We need to talk," I say, amazed that my voice doesn't shake. "Now."

Chapter 2 - Daniel

I've been awake for thirty-six hours straight. That's the only explanation for why I'm hallucinating Maya Sullivan sitting in my hospital cafeteria, looking like she wants to murder me with her teacup.

Except she's not a hallucination. She's real, she's here, and she just said we need to talk. Now.

"Maya?" I repeat stupidly, as if saying her name again might make her disappear.

She doesn't. Instead, she stands, smoothing down her skirt with a deliberate precision that suggests she's trying very hard to keep it together. Her dark eyes lock onto mine with laser focus. I know that look. It's the same one I saw a month ago across a crowded bar, except now there's no warmth behind it. Just determination and something else. Fury? Fear?

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