I wake to the rhythmic thrum-hiss of an oxygen concentrator. I also wake to the feeling of being watched. Liam Thorne is sitting in the armchair by the window, his tuxedo jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up.

"You're awake," he says. He moves toward the bed, his shadow stretching across the floor. "The pen-cap cricothyrotomy was unconventional, but effective."

"Lucky," I rasp.

He’s there in a second, his hands firm on my shoulders. "I spent ten years trying to stay one step ahead of you. I’m not letting a stray peanut take away my favorite target."

"Target. That’s all I am?"

Liam stops. He leans closer, until I can smell the ghost of expensive scotch and the sharp, clean scent of his skin. "When you went down, June... I didn't see my rival. I saw the only person in this entire godforsaken profession who actually challenges me. I saw the woman I’ve been obsessed with since we were twenty."

He reaches out, his fingers tracing the edge of the bandage on my neck. "They said you gave me mouth-to-mouth," I whisper.

Liam’s gaze drops to my lips. "I did what was necessary. It was a clinical procedure."

"Was it?" I challenge, grabbing his tie and pulling him down.

He breathes into the space between us. "I’ve wanted to do this since the night of the valedictorian ceremony. But I’m a professional. And you’re my patient. For now." He strides out, leaving me with a heart that is no longer beating to a professional rhythm.

🔥 "You’re my patient. For now." Liam is walking a dangerous line! How long do you think he can keep things "professional" with June? 👀 Drop your predictions below! 💬 Tap ❤️ for off-the-charts tension, and share this workplace romance with your bestie. 📈 #RomanticAudioClub