Thirty Days To Marry: The Doctor's Escape

The drive to the Hamptons usually took two hours, but Amira made it in ninety minutes, her foot heavy on the gas pedal of her aging sedan. Sterling had given her a choice: suspension without pay, or a "concierge visit" to the Dejesus estate to monitor Delisa's condition for the weekend.

It wasn't a choice. It was a sentence.

She pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of the estate. The security guard checked her ID and waved her through, but directed her away from the main driveway.

"Service entrance, Miss. Mr. Dejesus's orders."

Amira gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. She parked her modest car next to the fleet of luxury SUVs and sports cars. She grabbed her medical bag and walked to the side door.

Maria, the housekeeper who had known Amira for years, opened the door. She looked down at the floor, unable to meet Amira's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Miss Amira," Maria whispered. "He made me wait here for you."

"It's okay, Maria," Amira said softly.

She walked through the kitchen and into the main living room. The house was expansive, filled with art and furniture that cost more than most people earned in a lifetime.

Ethan and Delisa were lounging on the white sofa. Delisa was eating strawberries from a crystal bowl. Ethan was reading a script, highlighting lines with a yellow marker.

"You're late," Ethan said without looking up.

"Traffic," Amira lied. She set her bag down on the coffee table. "Let's get this over with. Vitals check."

Ethan pointed a finger at the floor near the rug. A glass of red juice had been spilled, staining the hardwood.

"Clean that up first. Someone might slip."

Amira stared at him. The air left her lungs. "I am a doctor, Ethan. Not a maid. Ask Maria."

Ethan stood up slowly. "Maria is busy. You are here. And you are whatever I pay you to be."

Delisa giggled, biting into a strawberry. "Oh, Ethan, don't be mean. She needs the money. Look at her shoes."

Amira looked down at her sensible work flats. She looked at the spill. If she refused, he would call Sterling. She would lose her job. She had student loans. She had nothing else.

She walked to the kitchen, grabbed a roll of paper towels, and returned. She knelt on the floor. The humiliation burned her cheeks, hot and fierce. She wiped up the juice, feeling Ethan's eyes on her back.

She stood up and threw the soiled towels into the trash.

"Vitals," she said, her voice hard.

She took Delisa's blood pressure. It was perfect. Of course it was.

"Recite the prenatal vitamin schedule," Ethan commanded.

Amira reached into her bag and pulled out a pamphlet. She handed it to him. "It's written here. Clear instructions."

Ethan slapped the pamphlet out of her hand. The paper fluttered to the floor.

"Read it. Out loud. Like you care."

Amira clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached. She picked up the pamphlet.

"One tablet in the morning with food. One calcium supplement at night."

Ethan circled her, stepping closer. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was possessive, terrifying.

Amira flinched violently, stepping back.

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

Ethan's face darkened. His eyes narrowed. "You used to beg for my touch. You used to crawl for it."

Delisa watched them, her eyes gleaming with a predatory excitement.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the front of the house. It wasn't the sound of metal on metal, but of shattering glass and splintering wood, followed by a chorus of aggressive shouting.

They all turned toward the window.