Page 23 of Temptation and Tyranny

“Mr. Moreau,” I began, trying to keep my voice steady, “there’s something we need to discuss.” I pulled out his progress notes, more for something to do with my hands than out of necessity. “You’ve made excellent progress. Your range of motion has improved significantly, and your strength is nearly back to pre-injury levels. I believe you’re ready to continue your rehabilitation independently.”

Cooper leaned back in his chair, his brow wrinkling. “Are you saying you’re discharging me?”

I nodded, ignoring the slight pang in my chest. “Yes. You’ve achieved all the goals we set at the beginning of your treatment. You know the exercises, and you’re more than capable of continuing them on your own.”

He was quiet for a moment, studying me intently. “And what if I don’t want to be ready?”

My heart pounded for a few seconds, the beat turning from steady to a runaway train at his words.I quickly regained my composure and brought out my professional tone. “Mr. Moreau, you’re more than ready. Your progress has been remarkable. Unless there’s something you haven’t told me about your condition?”

He shook his head, a coy smile playing on his lips. “No, no. It’s just...I’ve grown rather fond of…our little sessions.”

I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks and quickly looked down at my notes. He somehow managed to make our appointments sound like…well, like something sexual or even dirty. “Well, that’s...that’s very kind of you to say. But I assure you, you don’t need me anymore.”

“Maybe not as a therapist,” he said softly, causing me to look up. Our eyes met, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

He stood up, toweling off the light sheen of sweat from his brow. “Just one more question.” His voice was light but his look piercing. “Now that I’m no longer your patient, would you consider going to a wedding with me? As…my date?”

I froze, and I swore my heart actually skipped a beat. For a moment, I let myself imagine it—Cooper’s undivided attention, the chance to explore this undeniable attraction between us. But then reality crashed in.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Moreau,” I said, hating the formal tone of my voice. “But that would be unethical. Even though you’re no longer my patient, it’s generally advised not to form personal relationships with a client, former or otherwise.”

Disappointment flashed across Cooper’s face, quickly replaced by his usual charismatic smile. “Ofcourse. I understand completely. Can’t blame a guy for trying, though, right?”

I managed a small smile, even though I felt crushed at my own answer. “No, I suppose not.”

As I watched Cooper gather his things and head for the door, I felt a sense of regret wash over me. Was I making a mistake? But no, I told myself firmly. This was the right decision, the professional decision. My career was the most important thing to me. Besides, what future was there with a man like Cooper? He seemed to have a streak of danger within him, something I was innately aware of from spending time around my father. Whatever his business was, I had a feeling it wasn’t clean. Breaking my professional boundaries, and, probably my heart, wasn’t worth a couple of dates and maybe a few fun nights. I was certain Cooper wasn’t the long-term dating type. That was probably why I was so shocked when I had seen him with Ashlynn. He was a lone shark.

“Take care of yourself, Mr. Moreau,” I said as he reached the door.

He turned back, his hand on the doorknob. “You too. And who knows? Maybe our paths will cross again someday.”

With a final smile, he was gone, leaving me alone with the lingering scent of his cologne and a hollow feeling in my chest. I sank into a chair, letting out a long breath. It was over. Cooper Moreau was no longer my patient.

So why did it feel like I’d just lost something…important?

I sat in the gym for a long moment, my mind replaying our final session. His animated responsewhen I shared memories of Italy. The gentle teasing in his voice when he mentioned Steele and Ashlynn’s story. The flash of vulnerability when he spoke about his mother.

It struck me then how little I really knew about Cooper Moreau. Our relationship had been strictly professional, yet somehow, he had managed to get under my skin in a way no other patient ever had. Was it his charm? His mysterious air? Or was it something deeper, a connection I couldn’t quite explain or even fully understand?

Shaking off my thoughts, I went back to my office and sat down at my computer in order to finalize Cooper’s discharge papers. As I typed, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would see Cooper again. And if I did, would I be strong enough to resist the pull I felt towards him?

I thought about the gala, how handsome he had looked in his tuxedo, how easy and natural it had felt to be in his arms as we danced. But I also remembered the look in his eyes when he spoke about his business, the air of danger that seemed to cling to him like a second skin. Cooper Moreau was a man of contradictions, and I wasn’t sure I was equipped to handle all that he represented.

Still, as I closed his file for the last time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t really the end of our story. It was just the beginning of a new chapter. A chapter that, despite my best efforts and professional ethics, I found myself longing to read.

With as much self-discipline as I could muster, I turned my thoughts back to my work. I had other patients to focus on, other lives to help improve. I couldn’t afford to dwell on what might have been. Butas I prepared for my next appointment, I allowed myself one last moment of weakness, one last what-if.

What if I had said yes? What if I had thrown caution to the wind and taken a chance on Cooper Moreau? What kind of adventure might we have embarked on together?

A small part of me, a part I tried hard to ignore, was already hoping that I might somehow see Cooper Moreau again.

Chapter Nine

Cooper

The hum of the warehouse’s climate control system matched my rapid breathing as I waited for Viktor. With as much product as we moved, I’d procured this second warehouse a couple of months ago. I didn’t trust Viktor enough to give up the location of the primary warehouse—where the real treasures were. My eyes scanned the rows of crates and shelves, each holding high-end electronics—a front for my real business. The smell of metal and packing materials hung in the air, a familiar scent that usually calmed my nerves. But not tonight.

I ran my hand along a nearby crate, feeling the rough wood beneath my fingertips. Inside was a collection of rare Ming dynasty vases, each worth more than most people made in a year. It was almost funny how these priceless artifacts were just window dressing for the real valuables—just hidden forty kilometers away in a twin warehouse.

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