The stepbrother I shouldn't want

Chapter 1: Chapter 1: The Sheet

"Oh my God..." I breathed.

I stood frozen in the dimly lit pathology lab. Dr. Simon’s instructions still echoed in my head.

Check the new cadaver delivery before you leave, Eliora. Take detailed notes. Miss nothing.

The rest of the students had gone home hours ago. I’d volunteered for the extra work in exchange for extra marks.

Now I wished I hadn’t.

Cadaver Seven lay on a steel trolley beneath a white sheet.

I hesitated for only a second before pulling it back.

My breath caught.

He was covered in dried blood.

And he was, without question, the most attractive dead man I had ever seen.

Life is really fickle, isn’t it? Why does someone this good-looking have to die?

I couldn’t stop staring.

My eyes traveled over his tall, powerfully built frame, the sharp cut of his jaw, and lower, to the thick, long cock resting against his thigh. Heat flooded my face.

Heat rushed to my face.

This is so unprofessional, Eliora. Get it together.

I shook myself out of it and stepped closer, reaching for my clipboard.

That’s when I saw it.

His leg twitched.

Barely.

Just the slightest movement...

A movement that should have been impossible.

My pulse spiked.

"That’s not possible," I whispered.

The clipboard slipped onto the trolley with a soft clatter.

I pressed my palm against his chest.

Warm.

Far too warm.

"Oh... no way."

I jerked my hand back before forcing myself to try again.

Two trembling fingers reached for the pulse point on his neck.

His hand shot up.

Strong fingers wrapped around my wrist in an iron grip.

Dark gray eyes flew open.

Very much alive.

I screamed.

"Ahh!"

He yanked me forward until I was half sprawled across the trolley, my palm still pressed against his bloodstained chest.

"What did you just say?" he asked, his voice rough and low.

His grip tightened ever so slightly as he searched my face.

"You think I’m attractive?"

"Let go of me!"

I struggled against him, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Who are you? What are you doing on my table? You’re supposed to be dead."

"Shh..."

He glanced sharply toward the door.

"Keep screaming like that and they’ll hear you."

...

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

His entire body stiffened.

"Shit."

He released my wrist immediately and dropped back onto the trolley, pulling the white sheet over himself just as the laboratory door burst open.

Three dangerous-looking men stormed inside.

One of them swept the room with cold, calculating eyes before stopping on me.

"You seen a man come through here?" he demanded. "Tall. Dark hair. Bleeding bad."

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Don’t look at the trolley.

Don’t look.

I forced myself to meet his gaze.

"No. I haven’t seen anyone like that."

I lifted my clipboard as casually as I could.

"This is a restricted area. I’m just finishing my cadaver study."

The man’s eyes shifted toward the covered body beside me.

They narrowed.

"You sure?" he asked, taking another step closer.

"I’m sure."

I held his stare even though every heartbeat felt loud enough to betray me.

"Now leave before I call security."

Silence stretched between us.

Long.

Painfully long.

Finally, the man muttered something under his breath to the others.

The three of them turned and walked out.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Only then did I let out the breath I’d been holding.

"What the hell is going on?" I muttered.

...

The sheet moved.

He sat up slowly, wincing as blood streaked across his torso.

With careful, restrained movements, he climbed off the trolley and walked toward the corner of the room, where a small pile of clothes had been hidden.

Every step suggested bruised ribs and barely contained pain.

I quickly turned away.

But somehow...

My eyes kept drifting back.

"You’ve started staring again."

His amused voice made me jump.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he pulled on his trousers.

Heat flooded my cheeks.

"I am not."

I crossed my arms and fixed my attention firmly on the wall.

He slipped into his shirt, grimacing as the fabric brushed against his injuries.

"You should probably stop," he said. "It’s distracting."

I looked at him despite myself.

"You’re the one who showed up naked on my table."

He chuckled softly.

"Fair point."

"Now answer me."

I folded my arms tighter.

"Who are you? And why were you pretending to be dead?"

He finished buttoning his shirt but didn’t respond.

Instead, he walked toward me.

One slow step after another.

Until he stood close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.

"You ask a lot of questions," he murmured.

"And you answer none of them."

A tired smile touched his lips.

"Maybe I like keeping you curious."

Before I could press him further, he turned toward the side exit.

...

He stopped at the doorway.

One hand rested against the frame.

Slowly, he looked back at me.

His gray eyes held mine.

"You saved my life tonight, Eliora."

Every muscle in my body went still.

"I never told you my name."

For a long moment, he simply watched me.

Something unreadable flickered behind his eyes.

Then he smiled.

Small.

Almost reluctant.

"I like you, Eliora."

My breath caught.

"You’re beautiful."

His voice was quieter now.

"I would’ve taken you out... but today’s a bad day for me."

Before I could say another word, he disappeared into the dark corridor.

The door eased shut without a sound.

I remained standing in the cold pathology lab.

My wrist still tingled where he’d held me.

The image of his bloodied, powerful body refused to leave my mind.

One impossible question echoed through the silence.

How did he know my name?

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