The Forbidden Throb (Emma and Daniel) novel Chapter 77

Luke’s POV:

I’ve known Daniel Prescott since we were both gap–toothed kids–our families have been intertwined for generations.

In all that time, I’ve never seen him smile at his phone.

Not once.

He doesn’t do phones. He tolerates them as a necessary tool, tools for coordinating surgeries and fielding emergency calls.

Which is why I’m currently staring at him in something approaching horror.

He’s smiling at his phone. And his fingers moved across the screen with an almost eager energy I’ve never witnessed before.

It’s unsettling.

I rap my knuckles twice on his desk to get his attention.

Daniel looks up, that smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth. “Luke. What’s wrong?”

Jesus Christ.

“That’s what I want to ask you,” I say, settling into the chair across from him. “Because right now, you look like a lovesick teenager.”

“I’m just responding to a text message,” Daniel said, as if that explained everything. “From my wife.”

There it is again.

“My wife,” I repeat, leaning back in my chair. “You do realize you’ve said those two words approximately forty- seven times since Monday, right? My wife ordered lunch. My wife has excellent taste. “My wife sent this article.” It’s like you just discovered the phrase and can’t stop using it.”

Daniel’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes–amusement, maybe. “Is there a problem with me mentioning my wife?”

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Chapter 77

“No problem. It’s just…” I gesture at him vaguely. “Daniel, you once compared lovesick Dr. Martinez’s texting

habits to, an addiction requiring immediate intervention.“”

“This is different,” Daniel says calmly, setting his phone face–down on the desk.

“Different,” I echo, “Right. Because you’re not addicted–you’re just proclaiming it to the entire hospital.

1. lean forward. “You, who haven’t set foot in the cafeteria. Suddenly showed up at noon today with takeout,

making the rounds like you were campaigning for chief of staff. My wife ordered this. My wife knows I forget to

eat, “Yes, this Italian is from my wife.”

I throw my hands up. “As if the rest of us don’t have wives!”

Daniel’s gaze drops pointedly to my left hand–ringless.

The silence stretches.

“Okay, fine,” 1 mutter. “So I don’t actually have a wife. But that’s not the point—”

I watched him carefully. The point is you’re currently radiating contentment like some kind of emotional space heater. It’s making me deeply uncomfortable.”

Daniel picked up a patient file, but I caught the smile he was trying to suppress. “Your discomfort is noted and dismissed.”

“Fine, fine. You win.” I stood and pulled open the door. “Dr. Prescott has discovered human emotions. Alert the medical journals.”

“Luke.” Daniel’s voice stopped me, “Emma’s coming by later this afternoon. Try not to scare her off.”

I turned back, eyebrows shooting up.

“Wait–I actually get to meet her? Last week, you flat–out refused when I asked. I thought you were planning to keep her locked away in some ivory tower, hidden from prying eyes.”

“I was being considerate of her privacy,” Daniel said evenly.

“Uh–huh. And now?”

“Now she’s agreed to meet my friends, Daniel said. “And she’s coming to pick up some materials for a project she s working on.”

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Chapter 77

1 frowned. ‘What kind of project requires medical journals?”

‘She’s been selected as the embedded journalist for an international medical exchange program. She’ll be covering

cardiac research and surgical innovation.” There was unmistakable pride in his voice.

“Seriously?” I let out a low whistle. “That’s impressive. Those positions are competitive as hell.”

“She’s very talented,” Daniel said, and there it was again.

Then something clicked. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Wait. Is that why you suddenly changed your mind about joining the program? You’ve been dodging Dr.

Morrison’s requests for months, and then last week you just… agreed out of nowhere.”

Daniel’s silence was answer enough.

*I barely recognize you anymore,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

“You’ll have plenty of time to adjust,” Daniel replied, his tone mild.

I studied him for a moment. Despite all my teasing, seeing Daniel like this, genuinely happy for maybe the first

time since I’d known him… it made something warm settle in my chest.

God knew he deserved it.

But that warmth came with a thread of worry.

Because the way he was looking at his phone, the way her name softened every hard edge he’d spent thirty–odd years cultivating. The kind that left marks when it went wrong.

I just hoped to hell it wasn’t one–sided.

Because if this went south, if she didn’t feel even half of what was radiating off him right now… Daniel wouldn’t just be burt. He’d be devastated.

The afternoon dragged with the particular tedium of post–lunch rounds and chart reviews.

I found myself glancing toward the door every few minutes, ears attuned to any commotion in the hallway.

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