DASHIELL
Something pointy poked my side until I finally opened my eyes, blinking through the heavy blur of sleep as an unfamiliar ceiling slowly came into focus.
Wrong ceiling. Wrong light. Wrong room.
Then I saw him.
Alexander Astor stood beside my bed, impeccably dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark pants, the collar open and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. He looked as though he'd been awake for hours, while I was still trying to understand why he was standing over me.
Then yesterday returned all at once—the courthouse, the marriage certificate, the ring and the rules.
I was married to Alexander Astor, sleeping in his house instead of my own bedroom, and my new husband was currently poking me with the pen I'd left on my nightstand as though waking me with his hand was out of the question.
"Would a bucket of water over your head suffice?" he asked.
"I... I'm awake!" I scrambled upright, fighting with the sheets around my waist while he returned the pen to the nightstand.
"You should be dressed. We leave for the hospital in fifteen minutes."
"What time is it?"
He merely looked at me, so I reached for the bedside clock myself and found 7:47 a.m. glowing back at me.
My stomach dropped.
"I—I'm sorry. I promise I'm an early riser. It's just the new place and the bed, and everything felt different. I didn't mean to oversleep."
"Sure you are."
"I am. Normally I'm up at five. I set multiple alarms, but I just... didn't hear them."
His raised eyebrow stopped the rest of my explanation.
"Excuses waste time. Get dressed."
He left the room with the door wide open, and I sat there only long enough to realize what arriving late would mean. It was already my first day at Astor Health Medical Center, with a new department, unfamiliar colleagues and a schedule I knew nothing about. The last thing I needed was to arrive looking like the oversleeping charity case who had only gotten through the doors because our families had made a deal.
I threw the sheets aside.
Getting ready became a blur of fumbling buttons and damp hair sticking in every direction. There was no time for breakfast or even an attempt at making myself look less rushed before I shoved my notebook into my backpack and hurried downstairs.
Alex was waiting in the foyer with his coat already on and his keys in hand. His eyes passed over my disheveled appearance without comment before he opened the front door.
"Let's go."
I followed him to the SUV and climbed into the passenger seat, stealing a glance at him while I buckled myself in. Somehow, he still looked perfectly put together after dragging me out of bed with a pen.
It made me wonder what it would take to disturb that endless calm of his, even a little.
He started the engine, and for the first five minutes of the drive, neither of us spoke. I tried to tolerate the silence, but too many unanswered questions were already crowding my thoughts. I didn't know where I would be working, who I reported to or what my schedule would look like, and walking into a new environment without knowing what to expect made it impossible to settle.
"Um... about the hospital," I finally began. "Where will I be working? I mean, which department? Do I report to someone specific? Is there an orientation?"
"Your father already told mine. You're going into Pediatric Neurology at the same level you held at Harper Regional. Dr. Elena Ruiz runs the division, and you'll report to her. She'll handle your orientation and schedule. You'll get your badge, locker assignment and OR and consult access today."
"Oh." I had expected something more, although I wasn't sure why. There was no reassurance or welcome, only the information I'd requested, delivered with the same efficiency he seemed to apply to everything. "Okay. Thank you. Is there anything I should know about how things work there? The team or the routines?"
"It's a hospital. You treat patients, document and don't die. That's the job."
I looked down at my hands. "Right."
That answer should have discouraged me from asking anything else, but another question had been sitting in my head since he mentioned my department.
"Do you ever work with the pediatric team? Joint cases or consults?"
"When necessary. Congenital heart defects with neurological complications, seizures after cardiopulmonary bypass, that kind of overlap."
So we would probably see each other at work, possibly even share patients.
My attention drifted to his profile before dropping to the platinum ring on his hand. Seeing it there brought up something else I hadn't considered until now.
"And when we're at work... do we act like we're married?"
Alex glanced at me before returning his attention to the road.
"We act like professionals. No one needs to know anything unless it becomes unavoidable. You keep your head down, do your job and don't embarrass me."
"Okay."
He said nothing else as we entered the staff parking garage beneath Astor Health Medical Center, and the uncertainty I'd managed to push aside during the drive returned the moment the SUV stopped.
"Out."
I grabbed my backpack and followed Alex toward the elevators, struggling slightly to match his longer stride because he didn't slow down or wait for me. When the doors opened, he stepped inside and pressed the button for the fifth floor—Pediatric Neurology.
I went in after him.
My heart was still racing as the elevator began to rise, and I tried to focus on what I already knew instead of everything I didn't. Dr. Elena Ruiz. Pediatric Neurology. Orientation. Badge. Locker. I could handle those things one at a time.
Standing beside Alex made concentrating slightly more difficult.
His cologne carried faintly through the small space, sharp and expensive, and when I stole another glance at his profile, I had to admit that being married to the most difficult man I'd ever met would probably be easier if he weren't so ridiculously handsome.
The elevator chimed before I could dwell on it.
Alex stepped onto the fifth floor, and I tightened the strap of my backpack before following him into Pediatric Neurology.