LISA JENSEN

Chapter One

Lisa Jensen walked through the pristine halls of Crestmoor Private Hospital, her heels clicking against the polished floor. The scent of antiseptic filled the air, a sharp contrast to the delicate floral perfume she had chosen that morning. This wasn’t a place she was used to. Luxury hotels, private clubs, exclusive business meetings—those were familiar. But hospitals? Hospitals meant vulnerability. And if there was one thing Lisa despised, it was feeling powerless.

Her father, Jonathan Jensen, a self-made multimillionaire, had been admitted here last night. The news had sent a shiver through her core. He was more than just a father—he was a symbol of strength, a man who built an empire from the ground up. Seeing him weak, confined to a hospital bed, was a reality she wasn’t prepared to face.

Lisa’s beauty was the kind that didn’t need exaggeration. She had a presence that demanded attention—long golden hair that framed a face of effortless allure, high cheekbones, full lips, and striking green eyes that could hold a man’s gaze longer than was polite. Her figure, sculpted in a sleek black dress, moved with an elegance that was neither forced nor exaggerated. It was natural, effortless.

But today, beauty was the last thing on her mind.

Her pace quickened as she neared the reception desk. Just as she turned a corner, she collided with something solid.

A firm hand caught her waist, steadying her before she could stumble.

“I’m sorry,” a deep voice said.

Lisa blinked, momentarily disoriented. Standing before her was a man—a tall, broad-shouldered figure clad in a white coat. He had dark, assessing eyes that flickered with brief surprise before settling into a composed expression. His grip was steady but brief, releasing her the moment she found her balance.

“It’s fine,” Lisa said, smoothing her dress, her voice even.

“You seem in a hurry,” he observed, stepping back.

“My father was admitted here,” she replied, glancing past him toward the hallway she needed to take.

A moment of silence. Then, a small nod. “I see. I hope he recovers soon.”

Lisa gave a curt nod before continuing toward the reception desk, not sparing another glance at the man.

She was halfway through checking in when she heard a name called behind her.

“Dr. Paul Beckford.”

Her fingers stilled against her purse.

She turned slightly, watching as the same man who had steadied her took a clipboard from the nurse. So, he was a doctor.

But Lisa didn’t linger on the thought. Her priority was her father.
Later that evening, Lisa found herself seated in Dr. Beckford’s office.

His workspace was tidy, sterile, free of personal clutter except for a neatly stacked pile of files and a single framed certificate on the wall. He sat behind his desk, reviewing a report before lifting his gaze to her.

“Your father is responding well to treatment,” he said, his tone measured. “His vitals have stabilized, and if this progress continues, he’ll be discharged within the next few days.”

Lisa exhaled, a subtle relief washing over her. “That’s good news.”

Beckford nodded. “It is. However, there are precautions to take. His recovery doesn’t end here. He’ll need a regulated diet—low cholesterol, controlled portions. Exercise is important, but nothing too strenuous. A monitored routine will be essential.”

Lisa absorbed every word, her posture poised but attentive. “I’ll make sure he follows through.”

Beckford studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Good.” He reached for a pen, scribbling something on a notepad before sliding it toward her. “These are some dietary recommendations. I’ve also included a few therapists who specialize in post-recovery counseling. Emotional well-being is just as important as physical.”

Lisa took the note without hesitation. “Thank you, Dr. Beckford.”

He stood, signaling the conversation had come to an end. Lisa followed suit, extending her hand.

He shook it—a brief, firm handshake, strictly professional. “Just doing my job.”

Lisa gave a small nod and turned to leave, her mind already shifting to the next steps for her father’s care.

Behind her, Beckford exhaled lightly before returning to the medical files on his desk. Another case, another patient.
 
Chapter Two

The morning sunlight streamed through the hospital windows, casting a warm glow over the private suite where Jonathan Jensen sat on the edge of his hospital bed. The beeping monitors had been silenced, the IV drip removed. He looked healthier—stronger than he had in days—but Lisa could still see the faint traces of exhaustion lining his features.

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders. “Hospitals make me feel like an old man.”

Lisa smirked. “You are an old man.”

Jonathan scoffed. “Watch your mouth, young lady. I’m still sharp enough to cut your allowance.”

Lisa chuckled. “Allowance? I haven’t taken a dime from you in years.”

Jonathan leaned back against the pillows, a satisfied grin on his face. “That’s true. You’ve done well for yourself.”

Lisa folded her arms, tilting her head. “You sound surprised.”

“Not surprised. Proud.” He studied her for a moment, his expression softer now. “You’ve built your own success, Lisa. You’re smart, hardworking, and you don’t take nonsense from anyone. That’s my girl.”

Lisa felt a warmth spread through her chest. Compliments from her father were rare, and when they came, they meant everything.

Before she could respond, a knock at the door interrupted them.

Dr. Paul Beckford stepped inside, dressed in his usual white coat, clipboard in hand. He greeted them with a polite nod before focusing on Jonathan.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Jensen?”

“Much better, thanks to you,” Jonathan replied. “I appreciate the care, doctor.”

Beckford gave a slight smile. “That’s good to hear. Everything is in order for your discharge today. I’ve prepared a list of dietary recommendations and some light exercises to follow at home. If you experience any discomfort or have any concerns, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Lisa watched as Beckford handed her father a folder, his professionalism unwavering. There was something about him—composed, competent, and meticulous. The kind of man who never seemed rattled.

Her father, however, seemed more interested in assessing Beckford than in listening to his instructions.

“You’re a good man, doctor,” Jonathan said suddenly.

Beckford raised a brow but nodded politely. “I appreciate that, sir.”

Lisa shot her father a look, silently telling him to behave.

Beckford checked his watch. “The nurses will be in soon with your discharge papers. Take care, Mr. Jensen.” He nodded at Lisa before heading for the door.

The moment the door shut behind him, Jonathan turned to his daughter with a knowing smirk.

“He’s a fine man.”

Lisa sighed. “Oh no. Here we go.”

“I’m just saying, Lisa. You’re not getting any younger. I’m not getting any younger. Don’t you think it’s time to start thinking about settling down?”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Dad…”

“Hear me out,” Jonathan interrupted. “You’ve got beauty, brains, and success. But all of that means nothing if you don’t have someone to share it with.”

Lisa leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Dad, I’m happy with my life right now. My focus is on my work.”

Jonathan shook his head, chuckling. “That’s what they all say until they wake up one day with ten cats and no one to share their morning coffee with.”

Lisa laughed. “I hate cats.”

“Then do something about it before it’s too late,” he teased.

Lisa sighed, shaking her head with amusement. “So, what, you think I should go after Dr. Beckford?”

Jonathan grinned. “He’s successful, intelligent, and, let’s be honest, easy on the eyes. What’s not to like?”

Lisa gave him a pointed look. “I just met the man.”

Jonathan shrugged. “All great stories start somewhere.”

Lisa chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

Jonathan leaned forward, resting a hand over hers. “I just want to see you happy, Lisa. Before I go, I want to know that you’re with someone who deserves you.”

Lisa squeezed his hand. “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon, Dad.”

Jonathan sighed, but a small smile played on his lips. “Maybe not. But humor your old man, will you? At least… think about it.”

Lisa smirked. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” Jonathan said with satisfaction. “Now, let’s get out of here before they change their minds and decide to keep me.”

Lisa laughed. “Deal.”

As the nurses arrived with the paperwork, she couldn’t help but reflect on their conversation. Settling down? It wasn’t something she had thought about seriously in a long time. But her father had a way of planting ideas that lingered.
 
Chapter Three

Lisa stood by the hospital entrance, watching as a nurse wheeled her father toward the car waiting outside. The cool breeze brushed against her skin, carrying the scent of fresh rain from earlier in the day.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you on my back, old man?” she teased.

Jonathan scoffed. “Don’t tempt me. These nurses act like I’m made of glass.”

Lisa laughed, shaking her head. Just as she reached for the car door, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Lisa.”

She turned to see Dr. Paul Beckford walking toward her, his usual professional demeanor slightly softened. He had removed his lab coat, leaving him in a neatly pressed shirt and dark trousers.

Lisa arched a brow. “Doctor.”

Beckford glanced at her father, then back at her. “Mind if I steal a moment?”

Lisa hesitated, then looked at Jonathan, who smirked knowingly. “Go on. I’ll wait in the car.”

As Jonathan settled in, Lisa turned back to Beckford, folding her arms. “What’s on your mind?”

For the first time, Beckford looked slightly hesitant. Then, with a small smile, he said, “I realized something today.”

“Oh?”

Beckford exhaled. “That I’d regret it if I let you walk out of here without at least asking for your contact.”

Lisa blinked, caught off guard. She tilted her head, studying him. “Oh? So you suddenly noticed me?”

Beckford chuckled. “I wouldn’t say suddenly. But sometimes, we don’t really see what’s in front of us until it’s about to walk away.”

Lisa smirked. “Smooth.”

“I try,” Beckford replied, holding out his phone. “So, will you humor me?”

Lisa hesitated for a brief second before taking the phone from his hand and typing in her number. As she handed it back, she arched a brow. “Don’t make me regret this, Doctor.”

Beckford chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

Later that week, Beckford sent a message.

Beckford: Hope you’re taking good care of your father.

Lisa: Of course. Did you think I’d neglect him?

Beckford: Just making sure. Also, would you like to have dinner with a man who saves lives for a living?

Lisa: Hmm… tempting. But do I get a free medical consultation along with dinner?

Beckford: If that’s what it takes to get a yes, I’ll throw in a flu shot.

Lisa laughed as she typed.

Lisa: Fine. One dinner. But no flu shots
Beckford: Deal.
The Date Night

The restaurant was elegant yet cozy, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance over the neatly set tables. Lisa arrived in a sleek black dress, her hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves. The moment she stepped in, heads turned—but Beckford only had eyes for her.

As she approached their table, he stood up instinctively, drinking in the sight of her. “Wow,” he murmured, unable to hide his admiration.

Lisa arched a brow as she sat. “What?”

Beckford shook his head, a slow smile playing on his lips. “You’re stunning.”

Lisa smirked. “You just noticed?”

“Oh, I noticed,” he said, his voice lower now, more intimate. “But seeing you here, dressed like this, in this light… it’s different. You’re breathtaking.”

Lisa felt warmth rise to her cheeks, but she masked it with a playful tone. “Careful, Doctor. Flattery can be addictive.”

Beckford leaned in slightly. “Good. Because I don’t plan to stop anytime soon.”

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with teasing, laughter, and genuine curiosity about each other.

“So, tell me, Doctor, how many of your patients do you usually take to dinner?” Lisa teased, taking a sip of her wine.

Beckford chuckled. “You’re actually the first. Should I have led with that?”

Lisa pretended to think. “Hmm… I don’t know. Makes me feel special, but also like a test subject.”

Beckford laughed. “If it helps, I promise this is completely unprofessional.”

Lisa took a slow sip of her wine, her eyes holding his for a beat longer than necessary. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He tilted his head. “You have this way of looking at people… like you’re studying them.”

Lisa smirked. “Maybe I am.”

“Oh?” Beckford leaned forward slightly. “And what do you see?”

Lisa let her gaze trace his features—the sharp jawline, the confident yet thoughtful eyes, the way his lips curved into a teasing smile. “I see a man who is used to being in control but secretly enjoys being thrown off balance.”

Beckford chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s… unsettlingly accurate.”

Lisa took another sip of her wine, her smirk widening. “I have my ways.”

Beckford stared at her for a moment before murmuring, “I think I could get addicted to this.”

Lisa arched a brow. “To what?”

Beckford’s gaze was intense now, the playfulness replaced by something deeper. “To you.”

For the first time in a long time, Lisa felt something stir inside her—a thrill, a dangerous excitement, like standing at the edge of something unknown but enticing.

“Careful, Doctor,” she whispered. “You might just be playing with fire.”

Beckford’s smile was slow, deliberate. “Maybe I like the burn.”

The night continued with an electric undercurrent between them, neither of them wanting it to end. And for the first time in a long time, Lisa found herself thinking—maybe, just maybe, she was ready to let someone in.