5. Still one sugar, right?
I stood with two senior doctors from another hospital, listening to them talk about their collaborative research, when it happened.
"Dr. Ayra?"
I turned to the sound of my name, a polite smile in place. "Yes?"
My smile faltered when I looked behind the doctor who had called my name.
Daxton Anderson.
He stood a few steps away, his assistant right behind him. His tall frame, broad shoulders and unmistakable authority already had me quivering internally.
Oh God, no. I can not face him again.
"This is Mr. Anderson. Founder and CEO of Anderson Technologies." The doctor introduced with a smile.
I stepped forward with wobbly knees, pretending to be unbothered even if my pulse ran like it was competing in a marathon. "Mr. Anderson." I nodded, keeping my tone clipped and professional.
"And Mr. Anderson," he turned slightly towards Daxton. "this is Dr. Ayra Laurent. First-year OB-GYN resident. She's representing St. Celeste Hospital for the partnership."
Daxton's gaze settled on me fully.
Not a glance. Not a stolen look. A deliberate one.
My breath caught in my lungs.
"Dr. Ayra Laurent." He said my name slowly, with deliberate purpose.
Hearing my name in his voice did things to me I could not explain. Every part of my body seemed to be reacting.
He extended his hand.
The gesture was polite. Professional.
But it only caused my pulse to spike even more.
I placed my shaking hand in his, embarrassed that he could see how nervous I was.
The moment our hands made contact, I felt something electric. It almost made me gasp.
His eyes lit up with an emotion that resembled curiosity and amusement.
I swallowed.
His grip was firm, controlled. His thumb brushed lightly against the side of my hand as he released me.
That had to be an accident.
His eyes never left my face.
The doctor smiled. "St. Celeste is lucky to have Dr. Ayra. Valedictorian of her batch. Already making her mark."
Heat rushed to her cheeks.
Daxton's brow lifted slightly. "Is that so?" He said, eyes sharpening with interest. "First year, and already trusted with something this significant."
I nodded, unable to find words.
Our eyes held.
There it was again—that invisible tension, taut and unmistakable. Like we were both standing on opposite ends of something fragile, aware that the smallest movement could snap it.
"Obstetrics and gynecology," he repeated thoughtfully, eyes scrutinising me carefully. "That's... demanding."
"It is. But it's worth it." I replied softly.
Something in his expression shifted, something soft and subtle settling in his gaze.
"I didn't expect the hospital's representative to be in her first year." He spoke.
I smiled faintly. "Neither did I, at first."
Something flickered in his eyes. Interest.
"Do you enjoy your specialty?" He inquired.
"I do," I nodded. "It's rewarding. You're there at the beginning of things."
He held my gaze in an unbreakable trance. "Beginnings matter."
I swallowed, nodding. "They do."
"Mr. Anderson," his assistant interjected gently. "They are ready to discuss the pilot phase in the breakout room."
"Of course." He replied, never breaking eye contact with me.
"I'm glad we've been properly introduced." He said, his tone calm, but something beneath it unmistakably intent.
"Me too." I said softly, finally breaking eye contact.
His mouth curved slightly. "I'll see you soon, Dr. Ayra."
Then he turned, conversation resuming as he walked away with his team.
I remained fixated where I was, heart racing, fingers still warm from the handshake.
———
Day two of the conference arrived far too quickly.
I had barely slept the night before. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.
Daxton. His deep, dark eyes. Staring intently into mine like I was worth more than this million dollar conference.
His hand on my waist, holding me close to his warm and firm body.
His hand in mine, erupting goosebumps all over my skin.
My mind replayed his voice over and over again. The way he said my name. The way he spoke. So calm, gentle yet confident.
I had to keep telling myself that I was overthinking. There was no way a man like him could even have the slightest bit of interest in me.
Bright morning light filtered through the curtains as I chose an outfit for the day.
I decided to choose professionalism over anything that might draw attention.
A soft pink blouse and tailored trousers.
Hair held together in a half up-half down style.
A pink lipgloss on my lips. Black heels.
My favourite perfume. And that was it. I was ready.
By the time I reached the conference hall, my nerves were already humming beneath my skin.
The roundtable session was scheduled for mid-morning. An intimate setup meant for focused discussion. There was a long oval table with placards where important personalities and delegates sat—both from the business and medical fields.
I found my seat and settled in carefully.
But the moment I looked across from me, my breath hitched.
Daxton Anderson sat exactly opposite to me.
I masked my nervousness instantly, sitting in a way that I hoped mimicked composure.
Daxton's posture was relaxed, jacket perfectly fitted, hands folded loosely on the table.
He looked up, and our eyes met. And all of a sudden, that same connection fell into place immediately. As if it had never broken.
My heartbeat quickened, loud in my ears as I played with my fingers in my lap as if that would help ground me.
I broke eye contact first, lowering my gaze to the folder in front of me, fingers tightening around the edge.
Introductions began around the table. Names, titles, affiliations. I spoke when it was my turn, grateful for my voice coming out steady.
"I'm Dr. Ayra Laurent. First-year OB-GYN resident at St. Celeste Hospital."
I didn't look at him when I finished. I didn't need to. I could feel his attention like it was a physical thing.
As the discussion progressed, slides were projected, data exchanged, questions asked. I contributed where appropriate—patient workflow, ethical considerations, clinical practicality. I was in my element now, grounding myself in facts and outcomes.
"I think what you're saying complicates things a bit." Ms. Steve spoke up, disagreeing with one of my points.
I looked her way, licking my lips, prepared to prove my point when—
"I have to say I agree with Dr. Ayra."
My heart stopped for a second.
I looked Daxton's way, meeting his dark and heavy gaze, truly taken aback by him taking a stand for me.
"I think Dr. Ayra makes an important point," he continued, eyes never leaving me. "Technology only works if it adapts to the realities of patient care, not the other way around."
Something warm unfurled in my chest.
I nodded slightly, grateful and far too aware of the way his gaze sharpened as if he'd noticed my reaction.
The discussion moved on, but the awareness didn't fade.
Every time I spoke, I felt his attention settle on me. Not scrutinizing. Listening. Paying attention as if he was genuinely interested in what I had to say.
Every time he leaned back, thoughtful, I caught myself watching the way his jaw tightened, the crease forming between his brows as he listened, processed and contemplated.
I had read numerous articles claiming him to be cold, indifferent and arrogant. But he seemed to be none of that. There was no doubt that he carried an aura of stern authority, had a razor sharp gaze and judgment that could easily scare someone off, but he wasn't rude or inconsiderate.
A couple hours later, it was time for a coffee break. Everyone dispersed towards the refreshment tables.
I stood by one of the tables with a cup of steaming hot coffee in my hand, looking around for sugar.
"Dr. Ayra."
I stiffened as I heard that familiar, deep voice call my name.
Daxton stood there, holding a black coffee, his jacket unbuttoned now, sleeves rolled just enough to expose his wrists. Somehow, that detail felt far more intimate than it should have.
"M-Mr. Anderson." I stuttered, taken aback by his sudden presence.
"I didn't realize doctors drank coffee voluntarily."He said lightly.
I smiled despite myself, even though my heartbeat was a mess. "We do. It's either that or fall asleep standing."
"That bad?" He raised a brow.
"Residency? Yes. Sleep becomes a luxury." I replied.
His gaze softened. "You look like you handle it well."
I met his eyes. "I don't always."
"You take sugar?" He questioned, glancing at my coffee.
"Just one." I replied, surprised by the question.
Something unspoken passed between us.
He took a sip of his coffee. "You were impressive in there." He said, nodding toward the conference room.
"Thank you," I said shyly, looking down briefly. "Most tech solutions forget the human side, but you're not like that... I like how you balance the two."
His gaze was assertive, calculating. "I'm glad you think so... I believe it was important to bring doctors to the table to ensure this partnership maximally benefits patients."
A small smile stretched across my face as I nodded.
"You seem younger than most people in that room." He said carefully.
I raised a brow. "Is that criticism?"
"No," he replied smoothly. "An observation. The way you carry yourself makes it seem like you're very experienced, like you truly belong there. Your professionalism and dedication shine bright."
Heat rushed to my cheeks. "Thank you... I had to learn fast," I said. "Medicine doesn't give you time to doubt yourself."
"Neither does business," he replied. "Different battlefield. Same pressure."
I nodded in agreement. "No wonder you're the best in the business world, Mr. Anderson."
His lips curled upwards. "Daxton."
I blinked, staring at him surprised.
"You can call me Daxton, Dr. Ayra." He clarified, voice low, gaze heavy.
My heartbeat became erratic. "Um... then you can call me Ayra as well."
He repeated it quietly, like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. "Ayra."
The moment stretched. Butterflies erupted in my stomach.
Then his gaze dropped to my coffee. "Excuse me." He said, before walking away.
I blinked in confusion, watching his retreating figure.
What just happened?
When he disappeared from my line of view, I returned my attention to my coffee. It had gone cold.
"Of course." I murmured to myself, finally taking a sip of it.
I grimaced instantly. It was bitter. Too bitter.
"Still one sugar, right?"
I looked up, startled.
Daxton appeared before me again, his height towering over me. He extended a sugar packet towards me.
My heart fluttered.