Three days later, Dante was moved to a private floor of the hospital. It looked more like a five-star hotel than a medical ward. There were expensive rugs, silk curtains, and guards at every corner.
Elias walked in to change Dante's bandages. He was trying to be professional, but he could feel Dante watching his every move.
"You're staring," Elias said without looking up.
"You have very steady hands," Dante remarked. He reached out and touched the sleeve of Elias's white coat. "Why did you become a doctor? A man with your spine could have been a king."
Elias pulled away. "I wanted to save people, not rule them. Now, hold still. This might sting."
As Elias pressed the clean bandage to Dante's chest, Dante suddenly grabbed Elias's waist. He pulled the doctor closer until their chests were almost touching.
Elias gasped. He could feel the heat radiating from Dante's body. Up close, the age gap didn't matter. Dante felt more powerful and more dangerous than any man Elias had ever met.
"Let go," Elias whispered, but his heart was racing.
"Rule number one, Elias," Dante said, his voice vibrating against Elias's skin. "When I look at you, don't look away. I want to see the moment you realize you're starting to like me."
"That will never happen," Elias said, his voice shaking.
Dante leaned in, his lips brushing against Elias's ear. "You're a good liar, Doctor. But your heart is beating very fast right now."
Elias pushed himself away and grabbed his medical bag. He ran out of the room before Dante could say another word. Outside in the hallway, he leaned against the wall and tried to breathe.
He was supposed to be the one in control. He was the older one. He was the doctor. So why did he feel like he was the one being hunted?