They were standing there, locked in a desperate, clumsy embrace in the middle of the guest room. He was panting, his breath hot against her skin. She was holding him up, her arms wrapped tight around his waist.
The pain in his leg was a dull roar now, receding slightly.
But the sensation of her body against his... that was new. That was loud.
He could feel her heart beating against his chest. Rapid. Strong.
He pulled his head back. He looked at her.
Her face was flushed. Her eyes were wide, dilated. She was looking up at him, her lips parted slightly.
For a second, the doctor was gone. The ex-girlfriend was gone. There was just a man and a woman, breathing the same air, surviving the same gravity.
Ryder felt a ghost sensation—the memory of kissing her in the rain, six years ago. The memory of how she felt under his hands.
The charm—the defense mechanism—kicked in automatically.
"You know," he wheezed, trying to force a grin. "If you wanted a hug, you could have just asked."
The spell broke.
Elena’s eyes went cold. The professional mask slammed back into place with an audible snap.
"Pivot," she snapped.
She twisted him, hard.
"Sit."
She practically threw him into the armchair.
Ryder landed with a grunt. He slumped back, exhausted, the adrenaline crash leaving him trembling.
Elena stood over him. She adjusted her white coat. She checked her hair. She was breathing hard, but her face was stone.
"You ran away, Ryder," she said. Her voice was low, vibrating with a suppressed anger that terrified him more than the pain. "You left me. You left this town. You don't get to make jokes. You don't get to be charming."
She pointed a finger at him.
"You are a patient. I am a doctor. That is the only connection we have. If you blur that line again, I will leave you in this chair to rot. Do you understand?"
Ryder looked at her. He saw the hurt behind the anger. He saw the scar he had left on her, invisible but deep as the bone inside his leg.
"I understand," he whispered.
"Good."
She grabbed her bag.
"Ice the leg. Twenty minutes on, twenty off. I'll be back tomorrow."
She walked out.
Ryder sat in the chair, staring at the empty doorway. His leg was throbbing. His heart was aching.
And for the first time in six years, he didn't want to run. He wanted to know why the woman who hated him had held him so tight before she let go.
CHAPTER 4: THE GHOST IN THE MINIATURE
