Millionaire Rushes Into An ER With a Wound, Not Expecting To Fall For The Nurse Helping Him
The Persistence of Interest
She turned toward the counter, grabbing a set of instructions and a fresh bandage.
“You’ll need to come back in a week to get the stitches removed.”
Harrison leaned forward slightly. “Or I could just find you.”
She didn’t turn around. “I work here, so that wouldn’t be difficult.”
He studied her, searching for any sign that she was as affected by this strange pull between them as he was. But Vera remained unreadable, her focus trained on the task at hand.
“Do you always keep things this professional?” he asked, testing her patience.
She finally faced him, her hazel eyes steady. “Yes.”
That answer shouldn’t have interested him as much as it did. Vera handed him the bandage, deliberately keeping the exchange brief.
“Keep an eye on it. If it gets red or swollen, come back in.”
Harrison took it, but he didn’t move. He wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” he asked, watching her closely.
She tilted her head slightly. “Should I?”
He almost laughed. It had been years since he’d met someone who didn’t immediately know his name.
“Harrison,” he said, waiting for a flicker of recognition.
Vera remained unimpressed. “Still doesn’t ring a bell.”
Now he did laugh, a low, genuine sound he hadn’t heard from himself in far too long. “You’re probably the only person in this city who can say that,” he admitted.
She shrugged. “I don’t follow business news.”
That shouldn’t have been as refreshing as it was. Harrison finally stood, rolling his shoulder experimentally. The wound pulled slightly, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.
Vera watched him with mild disapproval. “Try not to undo my work.”
He stepped toward her, closing the space between them just enough to test the air. “And if I do?”
She didn’t back down. “Then you’ll be right back here, and I’ll make you regret it.”
Something in his chest tightened at that—a sensation he wasn’t used to. He’d come in expecting a quick fix, nothing more.
Instead, he was walking out with a name he couldn’t shake and a woman who hadn’t fallen at his feet. For the first time in years, a simple conversation had managed to unsettle him.
Harrison Holt never let anything unsettle him.
Harrison had every intention of forgetting about Vera Ellis. But two days later, he found himself parked outside the hospital, gripping the steering wheel of his black Aston Martin, irritation rolling through him.
He had meetings stacked back to back and deals waiting for his approval, and yet he was here. This was reckless, illogical—a distraction he couldn’t afford. And yet, he got out of the car anyway.
The ER was just as chaotic as before, but this time he wasn’t bleeding. He strode to the front desk, where a tired-looking receptionist barely glanced up.
“I need to see Vera Ellis,” he said, his tone firm.
The receptionist blinked at him, unimpressed. “Do you have a medical emergency?”
Harrison exhaled sharply. He wasn’t used to being questioned like this. “No.”
“But then you’ll have to wait.”
His patience, already thin, nearly snapped. He wasn’t a man who waited. He was about to push the issue when movement caught his eye.
Vera emerged from a nearby hallway, her expression unreadable as she spotted him. She didn’t rush over or look surprised. Instead, she walked with deliberate calm, stopping a few feet away.
“You’re not due for stitches removal for another five days,” she said, arms crossed.
Harrison knew he should have prepared a reason for why he was here—something logical. But standing in front of her now, he realized he had none. His silence stretched between them.
Vera sighed. “You reopened the wound, didn’t you?”
He hesitated, then gave a short nod. Her lips pressed together, but she simply gestured for him to follow her.
Minutes later, he was back in the same private exam room. The cool sterility of it contrasted sharply with the heat simmering between them.
She unwrapped the bandage, examining the damage with clinical precision. “You didn’t listen to a word I said, did you?”
“I got busy,” he admitted.
She didn’t dignify that with a response, instead reaching for fresh antiseptic. The silence should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t.
As she worked, he studied her: the way she moved with quiet efficiency, the way she never hesitated.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” he asked.
Vera didn’t look up. “I don’t know you.”
It was an honest answer. He should have left it at that, but he didn’t. “You could change that.”
She paused for a fraction of a second, so quick he almost missed it. Then she resumed her work.
“You don’t strike me as the kind of man who has time for small talk,” she said.
“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I make time for things that interest me.”
That got her attention. She met his gaze, something unreadable flickering behind her hazel eyes. “And suddenly, I interest you?”
Harrison leaned forward, just enough to test the air between them. “More than I should.”
For the first time, something in Vera’s expression wavered. But then, just as quickly, she pulled back.
She secured the bandage with practiced ease and stepped away, putting distance between them. “You should go before you make this worse again.”
He could have pushed, could have insisted on seeing her outside of this hospital. But for the first time in his life, Harrison Holt played the long game.
He slid off the exam table, adjusting his cuff as if this were just another business meeting.
“I’ll see you in five days then.”
Vera didn’t confirm or deny it. She only watched him as he walked out the door. And for the first time in years, Harrison left a room without being entirely sure he’d won.
