The Ultimate Cassidy Vale Romance Bundle

That was the first thing I registered—warmth wrapped around my fingers, anchoring me to consciousness.

The second thing was the beeping. Slow and rhythmic, coming from somewhere to my right.

The third was the smell. Antiseptic, clean sheets, and that particular hospital scent that always made my stomach turn.

Hospital. I was in a hospital.

I forced my eyes open.

White ceiling. Fluorescent lights dimmed to a soft glow. An IV stand beside me, clear liquid dripping into a tube that snaked down to my arm.

And there, sitting in the chair next to my bed, still in his perfectly tailored suit like he’d been plucked straight from the office and dropped into this sterile room—

Elijah Beaumont.

His eyes were fixed on something across the room, his expression carved from stone, the silver ring spinning slowly around his pinky without him seeming to notice.

His other hand was wrapped around mine.

I must have made a sound, because his head snapped toward me.

For just a second—half a second, barely a breath—something like relief washed across his features. 

Then the mask slammed back into place.

He yanked his hand back like I’d burned him.

“You’re awake.” His voice was neutral now. Like we were in a board meeting and I’d just returned from a bathroom break.

I tried to sit up. Bad idea.

The room spun violently, my head throbbing like someone had taken a hammer to my skull. I pressed my palm to my forehead and groaned.

“Don’t move.”

“Are you seriously giving me orders right now?” I squinted at him through the pain. “I’m literally in a hospital bed.”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be moving.” He leaned forward, his eyes sharp and condemning.

“You collapsed because you’ve been running yourself into the ground. The least you can do is stay still for five minutes.”

I wanted to argue. I really, truly wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove his medical advice.

But my eyes were doing something weird—rolling toward the back of my head like they were trying to escape this conversation—and a wave of dizziness hit me so hard I had to lie back down.

I thought I heard him chuckle. Low and quiet, almost under his breath.

No. Impossible. Cruel robotic evil bosses didn’t chuckle. His face would probably crack if he even attempted it.

The muscles required for genuine laughter had probably rusted over the years from disuse.

“Did you just laugh at me?” My eyes opened in disbelief. 

I heard movements, then the curtain around my bed rattled, and a woman in a white coat stepped through.

Mid-forties, kind face, clipboard in hand.

She looked between Elijah and me with polite curiosity, her eyes lingering on him a moment longer than strictly professional. 

I couldn’t blame her. Even rumpled and tired, the man looked like he’d walked off the cover of a magazine.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good.” She smiled warmly at me. Then, towards Elijah, she added, “And who might this gentleman be?”

“I’m her husband.”

The words came out of Elijah’s mouth without a single hesitation. Smooth and confident, like he’d said them a thousand times before.

I froze in shock.

He didn’t even flinch.

Just reached over and took my hand again—the picture of devoted concern—his thumb resuming that maddening circular motion against my wrist. 

His eyes met mine, and there was a challenge in them. 

Go ahead. Contradict me. See what happens.

I kept my mouth shut.