The Forbidden Throb (Emma and Daniel) novel Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Emma’s POV:

Daniel studied the photograph for a moment longer.

‘It’s perfect,” he said quietly.

Relief flooded through me. A wedding photo needed both people to be satisfied–otherwise, what was the point?

He turned toward me, and his expression shifted–softening, perhaps.

‘You look beautiful, Emma.”

My breath caught. The photographer was still there, fussing with his equipment, other couples streaming past us down the City Hall steps, but suddenly

world narrowed to just Daniel’s gaze on my face.

Nicholas had called me pretty before. Cute, sometimes. But never with that quiet certainty in Daniel’s voice–calm, yet carrying a force I couldn’t quite

name

Heat crept up my neck.

“Where… I cleared my throat, desperately needing to redirect this conversation before my face turned completely scarlet. “Where should we go next?”

The corner of Daniel’s mouth curved upward.

“The beach,” he said. “Would you like to walk along the shore?”

The beach.

A laugh escaped before I could stop it. “Of course. The setting of your story, after all. Where it all began.

I’d meant it as a light joke, a way to acknowledge the elaborate tale he’d woven for Grandma. But Daniel didn’t laugh. He simply looked at me, that smail smile still playing at his lips, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

“Yes, he said softly. Where it all began.‘

The drive to the waterfront took less than ten minutes

Portland’s Old Port area gave way to the rocky coastline, autumn sunlight shuting off the Atlantic gray blue surface

Daniel navigated the streets with the same precision he brought to everything else

I found my gaze drawn to his hands on the steering wheel those long, elegant fingers, the platinum band on his left hand califung the sunlight filtering through the windshield.

The ring gleamed with each subtle movement.

5:56 pm

Chapter 39

I touched my own ring absently, feeling the smooth platinum band, the delicate row of diamonds along its curve.

A matching set. His and mine.

“When did you…” I hesitated, then continued. “When did you have time to prepare these? I didn’t expect you to be so… thorough.”

Daniel’s hands stilled slightly on the steering wheel. A pause–brief, but noticeable.

‘I picked them up this morning,” he said finally. “Before driving up. I hope you like it.”

@

This morning?

I looked down at my ring again, studying the craftsmanship–the way each tiny diamond was set with meticulous precision, how the band tapered elegan to fit a woman’s hand, the way it caught and refracted light from every angle.

This wasn’t like some generic piece grabbed hastily from a jewelry counter.

-end. The kind of design that took consultations and careful consideration.

I said quietly, still turning my hand to watch the diamonds sparkle. “It’s beautiful.”

ice carried that same calm certainty. “It suits you.”

ed the comfortable silence–something instrumental at first, then transitioning into a familiar melody that made me sit up straighter.

Wait, I said, recognizing the opening notes. “Is this—”

The National,” Daniel confirmed, glancing briefly in my d

I couldn’t keep the surprise from my voice. “Th

“You know them?”

ite bands. I didn’t think…”

I didn’t think someone like you would liste

He seemed to read my unfinished

I don’t know. Classical

Pretentious

turned. “What did you think I listened to?”

I gestured vaguely, searching for the right word.

musement in his tone now.

despite myself

on a reflective quality, I didn’t really enjoy music much when I was younger I preferred sports Physical

of adventure

speechless

Adventurous?

mpletely with the composed, methodi al man beside me that I couldn’t quite process f

Chapter 39

1 I never would have guessed that, I managed

Most people wouldn’t He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel My family made sure of it. Any sport with potential for injury was discouraged Str Rock climbing, skiing, martial arts anything that might damage my hands was essentially forbidden

His tone remained even, factual, but something tightened in my chest.

Because of surgery,” I said quietly

Because I was being groomed as the Prescott heir,‘ he corrected. A surgeon’s hands are his most valuable asset, especially in cardiac surgery where precision is measured in millimeters. One wrong move, one tremor…” He trailed off. My family couldn’t risk it.

My chest tightened.

I could almost see it a young Daniel watching other children run and play outside, while he sat alone in some quiet room, staring at tedious textbooks

instead of experiencing childhood joy.

He never had a choice.

Pity. Sympathy.

Two words I wouldn’t have associated with Daniel Prescott before today.

I’d never thought about it before–what it must have been like growing up as the heir apparent to a medical dynasty.

Like most people, I only saw the glamorous surface.

The Prescott name in gold letters on hospital wings, The invitations to exclusive galas. The family’s tasteful feature in Boston Magazine’s Power Families

issue.

We saw Daniel in his pristine white coat, commanding an operating room. We saw the accolades, the publications, the respect that followed him like a

shadow

Living in the spotlight. Always shining.

But the cost of that brilliance? The sacrifices demanded to maintain that flawless image?

Those were private Hidden Known only to the people who paid them.

The privilege had its own kind of chains.

I’m sorry. I said quietly I shouldn’t have brought it up

Why not? He pulled into a parking spot overlooking the beach, cutting the engine The sudden silence telt profound. It’s part of who bam

He turned to face me, and something in his gray eyes softened

Besides he continued, someone showed me there were other ways to feel that rush that intensity That sense of being truly alivy