The Biker’s Nurse

CHAPTER 4

Anna’s POV

The house was beautiful.

No…..beautiful was an understatement.

As I wheeled Scott through the open glass doors, my breath caught in my throat. The ocean stretched endlessly beyond the back terrace, the waves rolling in a rhythm that felt almost unreal.

The air smelled of salt and hibiscus, warm and clean, so different from the hospital halls and sterile rooms I’d spent years working in.

Marble floors gleamed beneath my sandals, and sunlight streamed through massive windows that made it feel like the entire house floated above the sea.

“Wow,” I breathed before I could stop myself.

Scott didn’t respond, but I saw the way his jaw tightened slightly, his eyes flickering over the space. He didn’t look impressed or happy. If anything, he looked… tired.

“This way,” I said softly, more to fill the silence than anything else, guiding his chair toward the master suite.

His room was breathtaking, with an ocean view that made it seem like the horizon existed just for him. I helped him settle into the large, low bed, adjusting the pillows carefully. He didn’t complain or speak, just watched me with unreadable eyes.

When I was done, I forced a small smile. “There you go. Comfortable?”

He gave a short nod.

“Good.” I hesitated, unsure of what to do next. “I’ll, um, go unpack your things and… get started on dinner.”

Another nod. That was all.

My chest tightened as I turned away. This wasn’t my first time working with a patient who’d gone through something traumatic, but Scott was different. There was a weight about him, a heaviness that filled the room like a storm cloud.

As I moved through the house, cleaning and unpacking, I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering. I had taken this job because I needed it desperately. The pay was good, and being in the Maldives was an added bonus, but beyond that, it gave me something else.

Still, the silence in this house was deafening.

By the time dinner was ready, the sky outside had turned a soft orange, the sun melting into the horizon. I set the table carefully, placing simple grilled fish and salad on each plate.

When we sat down to eat, the silence stretched between us like a taut string ready to snap. Scott moved his fork slowly, his expression unreadable. I focused on my plate, the sound of clinking silverware the only thing filling the room.

Then, out of nowhere, he spoke.

“What are the things you want to do?”

His voice startled me so much my fork slipped from my hand, clattering loudly against the plate. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I quickly pushed back from the table.

“Sorry,” I muttered, grabbing another fork from the drawer. My fingers trembled slightly, though I wasn’t sure why.

When I returned to the table, Scott was still watching me, his dark eyes steady, unblinking. There was no impatience there, just quiet expectation, like he truly wanted an answer.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. No one ever asked me things like this. What I wanted had never seemed to matter.

“I’ve…” My voice faltered. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I’ve always wanted to swim,” I admitted softly, staring down at my plate. “And go on a shopping spree. Silly things, I guess. But… they’ve been on my list for a long time.”

Scott’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes shifted, a flicker of interest.

“Anything else?” he asked.

I shook my head quickly. “Those are the main ones.” There were other things, of course..

“Hmm,” he murmured, leaning back slightly in his chair. He nodded once, as though making some internal decision.

“We’re going shopping tomorrow then,” he said matter of factly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I blinked at him, sure I’d misheard. “Shopping? I… I don’t have that kind of money, sir.”

“It’s my treat,” he said, not even glancing up from his plate as he cut his fish.

“You don’t have to do that.” My voice was firmer now, almost panicked. I hated feeling like a burden. “Really, it’s fine.”

He looked up then, his gaze sharp but calm. “I want to. And I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me.”

I froze, the words lodging in my chest like a stone.

“On hold?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

The phrase sounded strange on my tongue. Life. I didn’t even know what that meant for me anymore. I hadn’t had a real life to begin with, just work, survival, and trying to piece together scraps of myself after everything I’d lost.

“You’re not,” I finally said, forcing the words out. “I needed this job.”

“You do,” he acknowledged with a nod, his voice thoughtful. Then his gaze sharpened again, decisive and unwavering. “And that’s why you’re going shopping with me tomorrow.”

The tone in his voice told me there would be no arguing. It was final, sealed.

I swallowed back the protest on my tongue and simply nodded. “Yes, sir.”

We finished dinner in silence after that, though the air felt slightly different now, heavier, but also charged with something I couldn’t name.

When the plates were cleared and the kitchen cleaned, I returned to his room to help him get ready for bed.

The routine was simple but delicate, shifting his weight carefully, adjusting pillows, making sure he was comfortable without making him feel helpless. He didn’t speak during the process, but his eyes followed my movements, sharp and calculating.

When he was finally settled, I straightened and gave him a small smile. “Goodnight, Scott.”

He didn’t return the smile, but he nodded. “Goodnight, Anna.”

I slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me.

The living room was quiet, the only sound the gentle crash of waves outside. I sank into the plush couch, exhaustion weighing me down, and grabbed the remote. The screen flickered to life, filling the space with the familiar hum of a movie.