Kissed and Conquered

Chapter Five: Enemies on a Narrow Path

Emily Harper slumped in the passenger seat of Nathan Brooks’ SUV, fuming like a kettle left on high. Nathan’s laughter at her expense finally died down, and she shot him a glare that could’ve melted asphalt. “Look, Dr. Brooks, thanks for the save back there—seriously. But this ‘marry me’ nonsense? Hard pass. I’m sorry about the kiss, and I’ll pay you back for it if you want, maybe with a nice crisp twenty. But can we please drop this whole ‘you owe me’ bit?”

“Pay me back?” Nathan’s lips quirked, his finger tapping his chin like he was solving a world-class mystery. “Funny you mention money, Harper. Didn’t I just drop five million to clean up your stepdad’s mess? Kinda makes your twenty look like pocket lint.”

Emily’s jaw clenched so hard she half-expected to c***k a molar. Is premeditated assault a felony? she wondered, mentally calculating prison time.

Nathan leaned closer, his hazel eyes twinkling with fake innocence. “What’s wrong, Harper? Cat got your tongue?”

She bit back a scream. This man was insufferable—smug, gorgeous, and fully aware he had her over a barrel. Years of dealing with her chaotic family had honed her self-control, though, and she forced herself to exhale. “Fine. The five million, the kiss, all of it—I’ll pay you back. In installments. I’m not a deadbeat, and I don’t dodge my debts.”

“Installments, huh?” Nathan rubbed his chin, pretending to mull it over like he was brokering a Wall Street deal. Emily’s stomach knotted, waiting for the inevitable catch. Then he nodded, flashing a grin that was equal parts charming and diabolical. “Deal. But if you ever change your mind and wanna skip the payments for, say, a more personal arrangement, my offer’s still on the table.”

Not in a million years, Emily thought, but she kept her mouth shut. No need to poke the bear—or in this case, the ridiculously hot ER chief.

“Anyway,” Nathan continued, holding up his scratched hand with a dramatic pout, “I’m a wounded soldier here, Harper. These battle scars could haunt me forever. You gonna leave me emotionally scarred and broke, or are you gonna throw me a bone?”

Scarred? The only one scarred here is me! Emily plastered on a fake smile. “How about I treat you to dinner? My way of saying thanks—and sorry—for the hand. Hope you don’t mind slumming it with me.”

“Dinner?” Nathan’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. “Now you’re talking. Where we headed?”

Emily hesitated, expecting him to demand some Michelin-starred joint she couldn’t afford. “How about… Luna’s Bistro?” she said, wincing internally. Luna’s was A City’s fanciest spot, where a single entrée cost more than her weekly grocery budget.

“Luna’s?” Nathan raised a brow, clearly surprised. “That place charges more for a salad than my car payment. You sure about this?”

“It’s the least I can do,” Emily said through gritted teeth, her wallet already weeping. “Gotta show some sincerity, right?”

“Sincerity, huh?” Nathan’s lips curled into a smirk that promised trouble. “Oh, I’m gonna feel that sincerity, Harper. Let’s roll.” He gunned the engine, and they peeled out toward Luna’s.

Luna’s Bistro was a vibe—think old-world charm meets i********: aesthetic. The place was decked out in velvet drapes, crystal chandeliers, and waiters who looked like they’d trained at Buckingham Palace. Emily eyed the opulent decor, mentally tallying her bank balance and praying Nathan didn’t order the truffle-encrusted anything.

A waiter led them to a cozy window table with a view of A City’s twinkling skyline. Emily slid into her seat, her nerves jangling like loose change. The waiter handed her a leather-bound menu, and she passed it to Nathan. “You pick, Dr. Brooks. Guest of honor and all.”

Nathan’s smile was pure mischief as he pushed the menu back. “Nah, Harper, this is your treat. Show me that sincerity you were bragging about. I’m curious to see your taste.” He stood, stretching like a cat. “I’m hitting the restroom. Don’t cheap out on me—I’ll be back to judge your choices.”

He sauntered off, leaving Emily alone with the menu and a growing sense of dread. Sincerity, my ass, she thought, flipping open the menu. The prices hit her like a sucker punch—$75 for a steak? $30 for a side of asparagus? Her heart bled with every digit.

She gritted her teeth and rattled off her order to the waiter, each dish feeling like a stab to her savings. “Grilled salmon, truffle risotto, and… ugh, the lobster bisque.” By the time she handed back the menu, she was sweating like she’d run a marathon.

Just as she leaned back, a shrill voice pierced the air. “What do you mean there’s no table? We booked yesterday!”

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Baxter,” the host replied, sounding like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Your reservation was for 11 a.m. It’s now 2 p.m., and we only hold tables for an hour. The spot you reserved is occupied. Perhaps next time you could arrive within the window?”

“You’re nobody!” the woman snapped. “Get your manager now!”

Emily peeked over her menu and groaned. Of course. Brittany Baxter and Jake Callahan, her ex and his new fling, were causing a scene at the host stand. What were the odds? This was like stepping in dog poop twice in one day.

“Brittany, chill,” Jake said, playing the dutiful boyfriend. “We’re late. Let’s hit another spot and come back another time.”

“Chill?” Brittany’s voice hit banshee levels. “If that skank Emily Harper hadn’t shown up at the hospital, I wouldn’t have missed my appointment and gotten stuck in line! This dump thinks they can snub me? One call to my dad, and I’ll have this place shut down!”

Jake frowned, clearly over her tantrum but too spineless to say so. Emily rolled her eyes. Same old Jake—zero backbone.

Brittany wasn’t done. She jabbed a manicured finger at the host. “You! I’ll pay triple to get my table. Go tell whoever’s in it to scram.”

“Miss Baxter, that’s against policy,” the host stammered, looking like he’d rather wrestle a bear.

“Policy? I am the policy!” Brittany shoved past him, her heels clicking like a war drum. “I’ll handle it myself. No one says no to Brittany Baxter!”

The clicking stopped right at Emily’s table. Emily leaned back, arms crossed, and smirked. “Well, well, Brittany. Fancy seeing you here. Who’s the clingy one now, chasing me all over town?” Her eyes flicked to Jake, who was trailing behind like a scolded puppy.

Jake’s face froze in shock, and Brittany’s jaw hit the floor. “Emily?!” she screeched, her voice loud enough to c***k the chandeliers. “You’re the one in my table?”

Emily shrugged, channeling every ounce of sass she had. “First come, first served, princess. Maybe try setting an alarm next time.”

Brittany’s face turned purple, and Jake looked like he wanted to sink through the floor. Emily leaned back, ready for round two. If Brittany wanted a fight, she’d picked the wrong doctor to mess with.