“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sloane said, voice low and amused, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth as her thumb brushed once more against the quick jump of Catherine’s pulse.
Catherine blinked, her composure returning in fragments. “You have an interesting definition of bad.”
Sloane chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’ve been told that.”
There was a beat of silence between them, charged and electric. Then Sloane spoke again, her tone turning playful.
“Have dinner with me,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “Unless you’re scared, of course.”
Catherine raised an eyebrow, her tone cool despite the heat still lingering in her chest. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Good,” Sloane replied, her grin widening. “Then prove it.”
Before Catherine could respond, Sloane took a step back, her movements fluid and confident. She didn’t ask for Catherine’s number or offer any details. Instead, she winked, her expression equal parts daring and amused.
“See you around, Dr. Harrington,” Sloane said, turning on her heel and heading back toward the gallery.
Catherine stood there, the quiet street wrapping around her like a cocoon. She watched Sloane’s retreating figure, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.
For a moment, Catherine considered leaving, slipping back into the safety of her world where everything was predictable and controlled.
But as she stood there, the lingering warmth of Sloane’s kiss still on her lips, she found herself rooted to the spot.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
And yet, it had.
Catherine adjusted the collar of her coat, her fingers brushing against her lips as she turned and walked toward her car.
The night felt colder now, the air sharper, but there was something burning deep inside her, a spark of something she couldn’t quite name.
As she slid into the driver’s seat, Sloane’s parting words echoed in her mind.
“Prove it.”
Catherine’s lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, as she started the car. For the first time in a long while, she felt…intrigued.
And she hated how much she liked it.
The Harrington family home loomed ahead, an architectural masterpiece of cold elegance. White stone walls, tall windows, and immaculately trimmed hedges created an imposing façade that mirrored the woman who lived inside. Catherine stepped out of her car, the gravel crunching under her heels as she approached the grand front door.
She didn’t need to knock; the housekeeper opened it as if anticipating her arrival. Inside, the air was cool, carrying the faint scent of polished wood and fresh-cut flowers. Everything was pristine, untouched by the warmth of life, much like its owner.
Her mother, Evelyn Harrington was waiting in the sitting room, her posture ramrod straight on a high-backed chair upholstered in pale gray silk. Her silver hair was swept into an elegant chignon, her piercing eyes sharp as ever.
“Catherine,” Evelyn greeted, her tone measured, giving nothing away. “You’re on time. Good.”
Catherine inclined her head, her face betraying no emotion as she crossed the room to take a seat across from her mother.
Evelyn wasted no time in cutting to the heart of the matter.
“I received the report on the new imaging equipment you pushed for,” Evelyn began, her voice cool and clinical. “A significant expense for a hospital already balancing a tight budget. Explain.”
Catherine folded her hands in her lap, meeting her mother’s gaze without flinching. “The equipment will improve patient outcomes and streamline pre-operative diagnostics. It’s an investment in efficiency and precision.”
Evelyn’s lips tightened. “An investment that won’t pay dividends if the hospital can’t sustain its financial health. Your focus should be on the long term, not indulging in expensive toys for your surgical suite.”
“It’s not indulgence,” Catherine replied evenly. “It's a necessity. Something you taught me to prioritize.”
