Page 39 of Tempting My Billionaire Master

I nodded, too numb to speak.

The cold morning air hit me as we stepped out of the car, our breaths visible in front of us. The streets were still deserted, and the silence was interrupted only by the sound of Mary’s little electric Smartcar pulling up next to the police cruiser. Mary and Elisabeth got out while Patrick checked his reflection in the car mirror, combing his hair and smoothing out his uniform.

“Is Amanda inside, Nana?” he asked Susan, trying to sound casual.

“Of course she is,” Susan replied, rolling her eyes. “It’s her office, after all. Now stop peacocking and help get Chloe’s friend out of the car.”

“The handsome mystery man!” Elisabeth exclaimed, peering into the backseat. “My, he certainly is a tall drink of water, isn’t he?”

“Hush now,” Mary scolded gently.

Together we hauled Ethan out of the car, his long limbs dangling limply as we struggled under his weight. My heart twisted at the sight of him so vulnerable and helpless.

We shuffled through the front door of the practice into an empty waiting room. As we entered, a woman appeared from behind a set of doors, her sharp features framed by wavy brown hair that fell just past her shoulders. She wore a white coat over a simple blouse and slacks, and her icy blue eyes surveyed us with an air of authority.

“What on earth is all this ruckus?” she demanded, her voice stern but not unkind.

Patrick visibly gulped, his cheeks turning red.

“Hi Amanda, we, uhm—”

Then her eyes widened at the sight of Ethan’s motionless form.

“What on earth…?” She hurried over, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. “Get him into the exam room, now!”

With great care, Patrick carried Ethan to the table in Amanda’s office next door and laid him down gently. Amanda gestured for everyone to step back, giving her space to work. She examined the bandage on Ethan’s shoulder, her brow furrowing as she took in the pink ribbon holding it in place. “Who did this? And what’s with the pink ribbon?”

“It was me, you see—” Patrick stuttered before Amanda interrupted him.

“Never mind, you did a decent job,” she said as she cut away the makeshift bandage on his shoulder.

“Please,” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “How is he? Will he be okay?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood.” Amanda’s cool fingers probed the torn flesh. “The bullet’s still in there. I need to get it out and start an IV. He’ll need a transfusion too.”

Panic rose in my chest like a wave. “Is he…will he…”

“He’ll be fine.” Amanda gave me a stern look. “If you all let me work and stop asking foolish questions. Oh, and I need the patient’s name, just in case.”

“His name is Ethan Hamilton,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

Patrick stared at Ethan, eyes wide. “Wait, THE Ethan Hamilton?” He let out a low whistle.

Elisabeth sighed dreamily. “Just as handsome as I imagined.”

Amanda pricked Ethan’s finger with a needle and covered it with a blood type test sampler.

Heat flooded my cheeks. I cleared my throat, avoiding their gazes. “I was interviewing him in his mansion when his bodyguards turned on us. We managed to escape to his bunker in the woods not far from here.”

“A secret billionaire hideout!” Elisabeth clasped her hands together. “How thrilling!”

“First Thomas, now this one… I’d say Pinegrove has two billionaires too many,” Mary said.

“Well, luckily for Mr. Hamilton here, billionaires seem to have the same blood as normal people. B negative, to be precise.” She opened a small refrigerator, pulled out a blood bag and expertly attached it to Ethan, her movements fluid and precise. I hovered anxiously at his side, clutching his limp hand, the rise and fall of his chest shallow.

Guilt churned my stomach as I watched Amanda work. This was all my fault.

“Listen,” I began, addressing the concerned faces around me. “I’m so sorry to drag you all into this. It’s because I left the hideout and came to Pinegrove that Ethan’s enemies found him. Now he’s in danger because of me.”

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