Aisha's POV
I got slapped.
My cheek still stung as I stood there, my fists clenched. The heat of the impact had barely faded when Simon spoke.
"She's my sister," he explained, his voice calm yet firm.
I didn't care. That didn't excuse it.
His sister or not, Emma had no right to hit me. I wasn't the reason Simon was injured, yet she had stormed in, full of assumptions, and struck me like I was some villain.
I turned on my heel. "I'm leaving."
He caught my wrist before I could take another step.
"Wait—"
And then it happened.
The sheet wrapped around his waist loosened—then fell.
Time stopped.
As a doctor, I'd seen countless men without clothes before. This should be nothing.
It was not nothing.
Simon was breathtaking.
Broad, muscular shoulders.
