Examined by the OB-GYN CEO novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Stuck Between Floors

Ronan tells Claire nothing in her is broken, the private elevator stops, his thumb finds her pulse and he refuses her because she is married and his patient; he transfers her care, and Preston is waiting in the lobby.

I texted him back on Friday morning: I don't know who.

On Monday I went up to the 47th floor at nine.

Honora had put a mug of tea in my hand at breakfast and told me to go.

I went for my own reasons.

The nurse from Thursday sat in a chair beside the door with a tablet on her knee.

Ronan stood at the window in his vest and shirtsleeves, and the lake behind him was flat and grey.

"Sit," he said. "I checked the log."

"And?"

"The slot was entered from a laptop on our internal network," he said. "I don't have the name yet."

His mouth went flat.

"I will."

"Is that why you asked me to come back?"

"No. I asked you back because I owe you an explanation."

He sat on the edge of the glass desk, close enough that I could see a thin scar on the back of his left hand.

"There's nothing wrong with your body," he said. "Your body is working exactly as designed."

"I was shaking in the elevator."

"You were starved of touch," he said. "Human skin needs it, and yours has gone thirteen months with none."

He said it plainly, as a fact.

"The nerves get raw. A stranger brushes your sleeve and every wire fires at once."

My face went hot.

"That's what's happening to me?"

"That's what's happening to you," he said. "It isn't a disease and it won't hurt you."

He paused.

"It will keep getting louder until someone touches you the way you want to be touched."

The nurse's tablet went quiet.

I realized I was holding my breath, and I let it go.

"Is that what you'd tell any patient?" I asked.

"I'd tell any patient the first half."

He held my eyes a second too long.

Then his desk phone lit up and the nurse looked at it.

"Dr. Maddox, the ER needs you on the second floor."

"Five minutes," he said to her, and to me, "Wait. I'll walk you down."

The nurse left with him.

I stood alone in the glass office and went to the window to calm down.

He came back in under four minutes with his jacket on his arm.

"Come on."

We got into the private elevator together.

He pressed L for the lobby, and the doors slid shut.

We were somewhere around the 30th floor when the car shuddered and stopped.

The lights dimmed to one thin strip along the ceiling.

"It's the power switching," Ronan said. "Give it a minute."

I put my hand on the rail.

It started right away, the heat in my arms and the shake in my knees, and I clenched my jaw.

I had never been alone in an elevator with him.

He stood a careful arm's length from me, looking at the floor numbers that wouldn't light.

"Claire," he said, quietly. "Breathe out slowly."

I tried.

My breath came out in pieces.

"I can't," I whispered. "It's you. It's just you standing there."

He turned.

"May I take your wrist?" he said.

"Yes."

He took it in his right hand, and his thumb settled on the inside, over the pulse.

My whole body went still.

I could feel my heartbeat bang against his thumb, and I knew he could feel it too.

He didn't move.

His breathing had changed.

It was slow and deliberate, and his jaw was tight.

"Ronan," I said.

I had never used his name.

His hand tightened on my wrist.

I stepped in, and my free hand found the front of his vest, and I looked up at his mouth.

"You're married, Mrs. Lowry," he said, very low.

I froze.

"And you're my patient. I don't touch patients, and I don't touch another man's wife."

He let go of my wrist.

It was the hardest thing I had ever watched anyone do.

"So I'll fix half of it today," he said.

He took out his phone.

"I'm transferring your care to another physician, and I'm doing it before this elevator moves. That's one thing between us I can remove."

The lights flickered back on.

The car dropped gently, and the doors opened on the lobby.

He stepped out first and held the door for me.

His face had gone back to a CEO's.

"The transfer will be done by noon, Mrs. Lowry," he said, where anyone passing could hear.

I walked across the marble on legs that barely worked.

I wanted to turn around and kiss him, and I wanted to run.

Then I saw the man standing by the revolving door with his arms folded.

It was Preston, in his good suit, and he was looking straight at me.

He had never come to my office before.

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