Chapter 213
Chapter 213:
Brogan walked in carrying a stack of compliance documents for her signature. His eyes dropped to her hands immediately. He saw the bright, wet crimson soaking through the white bandage.
The color left his face. He dropped the files onto the nearest chair and covered the distance between them in three strides.
June pulled her hand behind her hip. “It’s fine. I just bumped it on the desk p>
Brogan ignored the excuse entirely. He reached out and took her wrist, his grip firm but carefully calibrated — strong enough to hold, gentle enough not to hurt.
The sudden warmth of his palm against her cold skin sent an involuntary shock up her arm.
“You are a doctor, June,” Brogan said, his voice tight with genuine anxiety. “You know exactly how fast a deep laceration can get infected. Sit down p>
The directness of it caught her entirely off guard. She went still and let him guide her into the leather desk chair.
Brogan pulled a stool close and sat directly in front of her. His fingers moved with practiced efficiency, carefully unwinding the ruined, blood-soaked gauze until the wound was fully exposed — the jagged, angry laceration she had pressed glass against to hold Cole back.
Brogan’s breath hitched. His eyes darkened with a quiet, heavy sorrow he didn’t put into words.
He retrieved the povidone-iodine and a sterile cotton swab from the drawer and leaned in. His clean cologne mixed faintly with the sharp bite of antiseptic.
Ne𝘄 w𝗲𝗲𝘬𝗹𝘺 с𝗁a𝘱𝗍е𝗋s 𝘰n
“This is going to sting,” he murmured.
He applied the iodine with painstaking care. The proximity became overwhelming. June shifted in her chair.
“Brogan, really — I can do this myself p>
He looked up. His eyes found hers and held them.
“Stop fighting me, June,” he said, his voice dropping to something low and unguarded. “Just let me take care of you. Just this once p>
The raw, undefended honesty of it struck her somewhere deep. Her heart skipped. She swallowed and made herself sit still.
Out in the executive hallway, Crawford Love was moving toward her office.
He wore a bespoke navy suit and was flanked by two Apex Bio executives, arriving unannounced to discuss his capital injection into the company. As the primary investor, he didn’t knock. He pushed the heavy glass door open and stepped inside.
He stopped.
Brogan, sitting intimately close to June. Brogan’s head bowed near hers. His hands wrapped around hers. Their posture curved toward each other in a way that looked unmistakably private.
Something detonated in Crawford’s chest.
His pupils contracted. The muscles in his jaw locked. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
“Mr. Love?” one of the executives asked cautiously, registering the sudden, dangerous shift in the billionaire’s energy. “Should I knock p>
“No,” Crawford said. The word came out low and vibrating.
His eyes stayed fixed on the gap in the blinds.
Inside the office, Brogan finished tying off the clean bandage. As he withdrew his hands, his thumb passed deliberately across the back of June’s hand.
The contact sent a jolt through her. She pulled her hand back and cleared her throat.