Billionaire Gets Injured on Vacation. His Nurse Makes Him Want to Stay Hurt Forever
Collision in Paradise
Ronan Prescott wasn’t used to feeling pain, at least not the physical kind. But as he lay on the white sand beach of the private Bahamian Island clutching his leg, he realized that even billionaires weren’t immune to bad luck.
The jet ski had flipped too fast, the impact sending him crashing into the water. Now his knee throbbed in a way that told him something was definitely wrong.
His security team rushed toward him, but he waved them off, his pride refusing to let them see him weak.
“Sir, we need to get you medical attention,” one of his staff urged.
“Find a private doctor,” Ronan gritted out. “I’m not spending my vacation in some public hospital.”
Within an hour, a woman arrived at his rented Villa carrying a medical bag and an air of quiet confidence. She wasn’t what he expected.
There was no stiff white coat and no clinical detachment. She had soft brown hair in a loose ponytail, intelligent hazel eyes, and a nurse’s uniform that somehow made her look more graceful than professional.
“I’m Laney Kensington,” she said, kneeling beside him. “Let’s take a look at that leg before you scare your staff half to death.”
Ronan arched a brow. He wasn’t used to people talking to him like that, especially not in a way that wasn’t dripping with either fear or reverence.
“You’re a nurse?” he asked, trying to ignore the way her fingers skimmed over his skin as she examined his knee.
“That’s what the license says,” she quipped. “Lucky for you, I specialize in Orthopedic injuries.”
She was efficient, checking for fractures and pressing gently against the swelling. Ronan clenched his jaw, unwilling to show weakness, but Laney noticed anyway.
“That bad, huh?” she murmured, meeting his gaze.
He didn’t answer, but something about her eyes made him feel exposed. It was unsettling.
“You’ve torn a ligament,” she finally said. “You need rest, ice, and compression. I can stay on the island to monitor you if you want.”
He should have sent her away. He had an entire team at his disposal and a personal physician back home. But instead, he heard himself saying, “Stay.”
Laney blinked, surprised.
“All right then.”
As she wrapped his leg, Ronan found himself watching her. She wasn’t flustered by his presence and wasn’t fawning over his wealth.
In fact, she seemed utterly unimpressed by who he was. It was refreshing.
“You do this a lot?” he asked. “Patch up reckless men with too much money and too little common sense?”
“More than you’d think,” she teased.
Ronan actually laughed, which was a rare thing. He hadn’t expected to enjoy her company, but there was something about Laney Kensington that he found intriguing.
Maybe this vacation wouldn’t be a complete disaster after all.
Ronan wasn’t used to being idle. His entire life had been built on control of his businesses, his time, and, most importantly, himself.
Now confined to a chaise lounge on his private Villa’s veranda, he hated the helplessness clawing at him.
Laney, however, seemed utterly unbothered by his frustration. She arrived each morning with quiet efficiency, checking his injury, adjusting his brace, and ensuring he stayed off his feet.
She didn’t hover and didn’t treat him like some fragile thing, but she also didn’t tolerate his stubbornness.
For reasons he didn’t quite understand, he let her boss him around.
One afternoon, as the sun dipped toward the horizon, she sat across from him, her focus on the medical journal in her lap.
The salty breeze lifted strands of her hair, and Ronan found himself watching her instead of the ocean.
“You don’t seem like the type to take house calls,” he mused, breaking the silence.
She glanced up, unimpressed by the observation.
“You don’t seem like the type to follow doctor’s orders.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh. “And yet, here we are.”
She closed her journal, setting it aside.
“I don’t usually do private care. I work at a clinic in Miami, but one of my colleagues got the call and I happen to be available.”
“Convenient,” he murmured, studying her.
She met his gaze without hesitation.
“For you, maybe. For me, it’s just another patient.”
He wasn’t sure why that irritated him. People usually cared, whether it was about his wealth, his reputation, or what he could do for them.
But Laney treated him like any other man with an injury, and that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
“You always like making men feel replaceable?” he asked, half-joking.
She tilted her head, considering him. “You always need to feel important?”
That made him pause. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever said something so direct to him before.
He was Ronan Prescott. His presence alone commanded attention. Yet with Laney, none of that seemed to matter.
He leaned back, stretching his injured leg carefully. “I run an empire. Being important is part of the job.”
“Sounds exhausting,” she chuckled.
“It is.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was something else, something he wasn’t used to.
“You’re different,” he said finally.
She arched a brow. “Because I don’t fall all over myself trying to impress you?”
“Exactly.”
A small smile tugged at her lips, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she stood, gathering her things.
“You should rest. I’ll check on you in the morning.”
He watched her go, realizing he was looking forward to tomorrow more than he had in a long time.
