The Billionaire Doctor's Distraction

BETRAYAL HURTS

Asher craned her neck to look at the source of the surprise, and her legs turned to stone, rooting her to that exact spot on the floor while her mind scrambled to make sense of what her eyes were showing her.

Casper, her boyfriend, had Brielle pressed against the wall, one hand tangled in her hair, the other gripping her waist as their mouths moved together.

Something inside Asher's chest cracked as she watched Brielle's fingers clutching at Casper's shirt. They were so consumed with each other that they'd probably forgotten they weren't alone. And she knew from the way they fit together that it wasn't their first time. This was more than a drunken mistake.

Jesse tried to steer her in the opposite direction but she wriggled out of his hold. The alcohol was fully working now because she took bold, determined steps to where Casper was standing with Brielle and pushed them apart.

She stood before Casper, looked him straight in the eye, raised her hand high above her head and slapped him hard on the cheek. She heard people near them gasp in shock but didn't care who was watching. She raised her right hand again, and when Brielle tried to hold her back, she slapped her with her left palm.

"How could you do this to me?" She glared at him.

Casper glared back at her with hatred. There was no ounce of guilt at being caught in his eyes.

"I'm glad you know now. I'm fed up with being in a relationship where I have to explain myself every time someone asks if I'm gay!" He shouted. "I'm freaking tired of people mocking me for dating a girl who acts like she's one of the guys! Look at you! You couldn't be bothered to look like a woman. You're always in those baggy clothes, always hanging out with Jesse like you're some kind of bro. It's embarrassing!"

Asher had been shocked earlier, but now she felt like someone had just poured ice water over her. The words hit harder than she expected, finding all the insecurities she'd buried deep. She turned on her heels and walked away.

"Where are you going?" Jesse hurried after her.

"I need to use the ladies." She said over her shoulder. She wasn't sure where she was headed, but she pushed through the crowd that had gathered to watch her humiliation. She found the first restroom, locked herself inside a stall, and let the tears come.

Jesse stood outside the door, fuming with anger at Casper and hating himself for not being able to do anything. He'd tried to block Asher from seeing them but had failed.

And Brielle, that snake. Just thinking of her made Jesse's blood boil. Unable to bear the sound of Asher's crying, he stalked off to find them.

Asher's thoughts were fuzzy when she came out of the restroom. She needed fresh air, and needed to get away from all the eyes and whispers, so she headed toward the car park.

She couldn't remember where Jesse had parked and had a hard time finding his car. The alcohol made everything blur together, and she couldn't think straight.

* * *

Johan was leaning against a tree in the car park, reflecting on how satisfying the deal with Burgh had been. The man had agreed to everything, and Project Heartbeat was finally moving forward. He was waiting for Gilbert to return with the signed paperwork when he heard footsteps and someone trying to open a car door.

He glanced up and saw a woman pulling at a car door handle. When the door wouldn't budge, she mumbled something and made to leave. Her heels wobbled on the stone path, and she held the car for balance. She took another step and staggered.

Johan moved quickly. His arms caught her before she fell, and she placed a hand on his shoulder to support herself.

"Are you okay?" His voice was smooth and deep.

She blinked up at him, her senses clearly dulled by alcohol. She didn't answer. Her eyes were filled with tears, the blue gleaming like diamonds in the parking lot lights. Her lips quivered, and her fingers trembled slightly where they rested on his shoulder.

Johan should have stepped back. Should have helped her to a bench, called security, done anything but what he was doing—which was studying every detail of her face like he was trying to memorize it. Her milky, porcelain skin. The thickness of her brows. The slope of her nose. The sharp curve of her jaw. The lush lips that mesmerized him.

She appeared fragile and fierce at the same time, and he felt a surge of emotions to soothe the raw pain in her expression.

This was wrong. She was drunk, he should walk away.

But then she looked at him with those tear-bright eyes, and without letting himself think about consequences or all the reasons this was a terrible idea, he leaned in. His hand moved to her jaw, his fingers brushing the skin behind her ear as if asking for permission. She shivered but said nothing. When she didn't stop him, his lips met hers.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, giving her every opportunity to pull away. But she didn't. Instead, her hand slid from his shoulder to grab the lapels of his jacket, and she kissed him back.

The kiss deepened. He tasted the sweetness of whatever she'd been drinking, and felt her heartbeat racing against his chest. His hand tangled in her hair while the other pressed against the small of her back, pulling her closer until he could feel the warmth of her body through his shirt.

She moaned softly, and it was that sound that brought Johan crashing back to his senses. .

What the hell was he doing?

He broke the kiss and pulled back, his fingers still cradling her jaw. She was breathless, eyes wide, chest heaving, face flushed.

She was drunk, and he'd just taken advantage of her. The realization hit him like cold water. He was supposed to be better than this. Controlled. Disciplined. And here he was, kissing a stranger in a parking lot because she'd looked at him with sad eyes.

"Let's get you home," Johan murmured.

Just then, footsteps approached from around the corner. Gilbert appeared, eyebrow raised. "Sir, Mr. Burgh is..." He paused mid-sentence when he saw the woman in Johan's arms.

Johan straightened, his face returning to its usual neutral expression. "Give me a second," he told Gilbert without looking at him. Gilbert nodded and wandered back the way he came.

Neither of them knew that there was another pair of eyes watching from the shadows.

Johan gently took the woman by the elbow. She didn't resist, just leaned slightly into his side, still dazed. They walked in silence down the side path to where his car was parked. His driver opened the door as they approached. Johan helped her in carefully, making sure her dress didn't catch on anything. She slumped back into the leather seat, eyes closed.

He didn't sit beside her. Instead, he leaned in. "What's your name?"

"Ash-er," she slurred.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Gilbert. "Find out where Ms. Asher's belongings are. She must have a purse or phone inside."

"Understood."

Johan ended the call and stood by the car, staring at nothing. What the hell had just happened? He'd spent two years avoiding any emotional entanglement, and now he'd kissed a drunk stranger whose name he barely caught.

A few moments later, Gilbert returned with a breathless Jesse behind him. His hair was disheveled, and he looked panicked.

"Where the hell is Asher?" he demanded before catching sight of Johan and the open car door.

He marched forward, glaring at Johan. "Who are you, and why is she in your car?"

Johan didn't flinch. "Are you her boyfriend?" There was an edge to his voice he didn't bother to hide.

Jesse took a step closer until they were almost nose to nose. "I asked you the goddamn question first! Why is she in your car? What did you do to her?"

"She was unstable and staggered. I caught her before she hit the pavement."

Jesse looked down at Asher. Her eyes were closed, and her fingers curled loosely in her lap. "She's drunk."

"Clearly. You should have paid more attention to your girlfriend when you knew she couldn't handle alcohol."

His words made Jesse flinch slightly. "She's not my girlfriend. She's my best friend.”

Johan studied him. The guilt was obvious on his face. "Get in the car. I'll have my driver take you both home."

"We came here in my car," he protested.

"Are you sober enough to drive?"

"I had just one glass, and that was hours ago," he snapped.

"She can't walk," Johan said. "And you don't look strong enough to carry her if she passes out again."

Jesse contemplated his point. "But I can't leave my car behind."

"Give my driver your keys. He'll make sure it's safely parked at your doorstep."

Jesse hesirated, then agreed. "Thank you," he muttered and got into the car beside Asher.

Johan closed the door behind him and turned to Gilbert. "Let's get them home."

* * *

Johan sat stiffly in the back seat after ensuring Asher and her friend were safely home. Gilbert drove because his driver had taken the friend's car.

He mulled over the events of the evening and sighed. She shouldn't have looked at him like that. She shouldn't have kissed him back. And he sure as hell shouldn't have kissed her at all.

He leaned his head back and shut his eyes, but the image still burned behind his lids. Asher's trembling lips, the tears on her lashes, the warmth of her mouth on his.

He swallowed hard.

She was drunk, and he'd taken advantage of her. For the first time in a long time, he'd acted on impulse, and that unsettled him more than anything.

But what unsettled him even more was the fact that he wanted to see her again. Wanted to know if that connection he'd felt was real or just a product of loneliness and desperation. He didn't even know her last name.