Chapter 2

He was wearing a black lightweight sweater and dark gray pants, looking a few years younger than he did in his lab coat, and a little more dangerous.

He walked over and stopped in front of her. The height gap was more obvious now. She had to look up to see his face.

"D-Dr. Quinn, are you looking for me?" Emily stammered, her voice trembling.

"Did the ultrasound report for bed 23 come back yet?" he asked.

"Y-yes, I put it on your desk at four this afternoon," Emily replied.

"Okay." He nodded, but made no move to leave. He stood there, one hand in his pocket, his gaze dropping to the petite girl in front of him.

Now that she was out of her uniform, her tiny build stood out more. Her white tee was tucked into her denim skirt, and her waist was so small, Lucas felt like he could easily wrap his hands around it.

Beneath the short skirt were a pair of creamy legs, not long, but perfectly shaped, with soft, rounded thighs and slender calves. Lucas found his eyes lingering on those legs for a moment.

Then he asked, "Where are you staying?"

"Huh?" Emily blinked, caught off guard. "I-I live in the hospital dorm."

"Which building?"

"Building three. Dr. Quinn, why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious."

He turned toward the elevator. "Come on, I'm heading to the parking lot too. Let's take the elevator together." Emily followed behind him, keeping three steps back.

He was so tall, his long legs covered twice the distance with every stride. She practically had to jog to keep up.

At the elevator, Lucas pressed the button and glanced sideways at her. "Do you always walk this slow?"

"My legs are short," Emily muttered.

Lucas couldn't help but smirk. The elevator arrived, and he stepped aside, letting her go in first.

Emily stepped inside and tucked herself into the corner. Lucas followed, standing right beside her, not across from her, but right next to her.

There was less than a foot between them. The elevator doors closed, and in the tight space, their breathing was the only sound.

Emily's heart started racing again.

"Which floor?" he asked.

"Uh? Oh, first floor, thanks," she said.

Lucas pressed the button for the first floor, then for the basement parking garage. The elevator began its descent.

"About today," Lucas suddenly spoke up, his voice deep and almost intimate in the tight elevator. "Watch yourself from now on."

"A-About today? You mean when I ran into you?" Emily stammered, nervous. "I swear, I didn't mean to. I won't let it happen again..."

"No," he cut her off, sharp.

"Then what?" she asked.

"If you can't reach something," he said, his voice dropping lower, "ask someone to help. Don't go tiptoeing for it yourself."

Emily blinked. "Why?"

"Because," his voice was so low it was practically a whisper, rough enough to make Emily's skin tingle, "when you stand on your tiptoes, your lab coat hikes up."

With that, he let go, and the elevator doors slowly slid shut. Emily stood there, her brain short-circuiting for a full five seconds.

Her lab coat hiked up? Oh god, that meant... Emily slapped her hands over her face and dropped to the floor.

He saw my legs, and he saw... Emily's mind spun. She buried her face in her knees, letting out a little, cute whimper.

The elevator had already reached the basement. Lucas stepped out, pulled his car keys from his pocket, and pressed the button. A black Range Rover flashed its lights.

He opened the door and got in, but didn't start the engine right away. Instead, he leaned back in the seat and covered his eyes with his hand.

"Lucas, you're such an asshole," he muttered to himself. Every word and every move he'd made just now was entirely intentional.

Lucas knew he was flirting with her. He couldn't help himself. In his twenty-nine years, he'd never felt this kind of urge toward anyone before.

He wanted to get close to her, to see her cheeks flush, to hear her stammer out "Dr. Quinn," and to corner her, kissing her until she was breathless.

Lucas fired up the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

*****

The next morning, Emily showed up at the nurse's station with dark circles under her eyes. She hadn't slept at all last night.

"Emily, what happened? You look really tired," Chloe, her fellow intern, leaned in and asked.

"Your eyes are so puffy. Did you cry?" Chloe pressed.

"No, I didn't get any sleep," Emily replied, rubbing her eyes and letting out a big yawn.

"Alright, today you're coming with me to the operating room to observe. Dr. Quinn has a valve replacement surgery, and the head nurse said we should go learn from it," Chloe said.

Emily's sleepiness vanished in an instant. "D-Dr. Quinn?" she stammered.

"Yeah, the hottest doctor in the whole hospital," Chloe replied.

Chloe winked. "But don't get your hopes up. He's cold. Last time, a nurse handed him an instrument, and her finger accidentally brushed his hand.

"He made her switch gloves on the spot. Seriously, Dr. Quinn is a total neat freak."

Emily swallowed hard, remembering how her nose had accidentally brushed against Lucas's collarbone yesterday. Was he going to toss his entire scrub top because of that?

At exactly eight o'clock, Emily and Chloe suited up in scrubs, pulled on caps and masks, only their eyes showing, and trailed after the head nurse into the OR.

Lucas was already at the operating table, dressed in scrubs and a surgical gown. His mask covered half his face, leaving his eyes visible.

But those eyes alone were enough to make girls' hearts race.

"Everyone here?" Lucas asked, glancing around the room.

His gaze lingered on Emily for a split second, so fast that no one else noticed, except Emily herself.

Her heart gave a sudden jolt.

"Let's begin," Lucas said. The surgery lasted three hours.

Emily stood in the corner, watching Lucas work. His technique was jaw-droppingly precise. His technique was breathtakingly precise. He cut, separated, exposed, replaced, and sutured. Every movement remained clean and precise without any redundancy.

Emily was completely mesmerized, barely remembering to breathe. When the last stitch was done, Lucas set down the needle holder and stepped back.

"Close the chest," he said, his voice a little hoarse. He pulled off his blood-stained gloves, tossed them into the medical waste bin, and turned toward the sink.

As Lucas passed by Emily, he paused for a heartbeat. With most of his face hidden behind the mask, she could feel his eyes on her.

His gaze found hers. Since everyone in the OR was masked, only their eyes were visible, making every glance feel more intense.

For a moment, his eyes lingered on her amber irises. Then he turned and walked away.

After the surgery, Emily was changing in the locker room. She slipped off her scrubs, leaving her in a thin camisole.

The locker room mirror faced her directly, and she glanced at it without thinking. Her silhouette was clearly visible beneath the camisole, every curve outlined.

Her waist was slender, her curves soft and rounded, her collarbones delicate as if sculpted, and her skin was smooth.

She quickly pulled on a T-shirt, hiding those curves. For some reason, she suddenly remembered the subtle look on Lucas's face when he said, "Your white coat might ride up."

His face was neutral, but there was something smoldering in his eyes.

What was he thinking? Lucas was giving her a professional reminder, and that was all. He was a doctor. He had seen countless bodies before. Why would he pay any special attention to a nurse like her?

That afternoon, Emily was in the ward, taking a patient's blood pressure. A caregiver walked over and said, "Emily, Dr. Quinn wants you to stop by his office. He needs you to update a patient record."

"Oh, okay," Emily replied, setting down the blood pressure monitor, smoothing her white coat, and making her way to his office.

The office door was slightly ajar, so Emily knocked. "Come in," Lucas called.

She opened the door and saw him sitting at his desk, pen in hand, writing in a patient's chart.

Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the side of his face and tracing the sharp lines of his jaw.

"Dr. Quinn, you wanted to see me?" Emily asked.

"Close the door," he said.

Emily hesitated for a second, then turned and closed the door behind her.

Lucas set down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and looked up at her. "Come here," he said.

Emily walked over and stopped in front of his desk. "A little closer," he added.

Emily took a few more steps forward, now standing right beside his chair. There was less than two feet between them.

He was sitting, and she was standing, but then, he was almost eye-to-eye with her. Lucas was so tall.

Lucas picked up a patient chart from his desk, flipped it open, and pointed to a line. "Did you write this?" he asked.

Emily leaned in for a closer look. It was the nursing record she'd written yesterday. "Yeah, is there a problem?" she asked.

"Right here," Lucas said, tapping the spot with his pen. "You made a typo."

Emily leaned in again, and her cheeks flushed bright red. "Sorry, I'll fix it right away," she replied.

She reached for the chart, but Lucas didn't let go. His fingers were long and powerful, gripping the edge of the chart, only inches away from hers.

Emily's hand hovered in midair, caught between reaching forward and pulling back. "Dr. Quinn?" she asked quietly. Lucas watched her, his gaze steady and unreadable.

From his angle, he could take in her side profile, the soft curve of her cheek, the roundness of her earlobe, the pale, slender line of her neck, and a glimpse of her collarbone showing beneath the edge of her white coat.

His eyes traced down her neck, pausing at her collar for a second before he finally looked away.

"What kind of shampoo do you use?" he suddenly asked.

"Huh?" Emily was caught off guard by the sudden question.

"I-I bought it at the supermarket. It's rose scented," she stammered.

"Rose," he repeated, as if savoring the word.

Emily, flustered, quickly said, "Dr. Quinn, I'll go fix the chart now."

"Okay," he replied.

He finally let go of the chart. Emily quickly grabbed it, found a pen on the desk, and bent over to correct the typo.

As she leaned forward, the collar of her white coat slipped open a bit. Lucas couldn't help but let his gaze wander to that little gap.

He caught a flash of delicate skin and the gentle curve beneath, edged by the soft pink of her bra, like a flower bud not yet fully opened.

He quickly looked away, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His right hand unconsciously tightened around the armrest of his chair.

"All done," Emily said, straightening up and putting the chart back on the desk. Lucas didn't bother to look at it.

He stared at her, his eyes calm and deep. "Emily," he called her, his voice dropping lower.

"Yes?" she answered.

"Do you realize," Lucas said slowly, "when you bend over, your collar opens up?"