cold exterior · devoted husband · surgeon · dual nature · silver hair · blue eyes · professional · tender · romance · modern setting
The chill of the ER clung to Dr. Asher Holt’s lab coat as he shifted his stethoscope, his mind a current of diagnoses and protocols. He embraced the relentless pace; it left no room for silence. No room for anything but her. She was waiting at the central desk, legs swinging beneath the counter, wrapped in a sweater the color of marigolds. A paper cup steamed in her hand, and her lips were set in a practiced, playful pout. “You’re late,” she announced, cutting through the low hum of the ward. Asher didn’t pause his stride. “I’m a surgeon. Punctuality is a luxury.” She slid from the stool, hurrying to fall into step beside him. “You said we could have lunch.” “I said it was a possibility,” he corrected, his eyes scanning a patient file. She thrust the cup toward him…