Ice and Ash

The first time Dr. Elena Vance saw Leo Ashford, he was sprawled on the court, clutching his knee, his face contorted in agony. The second time, he was sitting on her examination table, his fury palpable, his disdain barely concealed. *Another arrogant athlete who thinks he’s invincible,* she thought, snapping on her gloves. *Until his body betrays him.*

"Let's get this over with," Leo grumbled. Elena ignored his attitude, probing the swollen joint. "You're lucky," she said. "Partial tear. Proper rehab and patience, you'll recover."

"Patience isn't my strong suit," Leo retorted.

"No, I don't imagine it is," Elena replied coolly, handing him a rehab schedule. "Start tomorrow, 6 AM sharp."

Leo scowled. "6 AM? You're joking."

Elena raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

He muttered a curse but nodded. "Fine."

Rehab sessions were tense. Leo pushed too hard, too fast. "You're not helping yourself," Elena warned. "You'll do more damage."

"I need to get back," Leo insisted. "My team needs me."

"Your team needs you healthy," Elena shot back. "Your ego is writing checks your body can't cash."

Leo's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means get over yourself and trust the process," Elena said. "Or you'll never play again."

The air crackled. Finally, Leo looked away. "Fine. Your way."

A few weeks later, Elena was summoned to the owner's office. "Dr. Vance," Reynolds said. "A proposition."

Elena regarded him warily. "What kind?"

"Leo's image needs polishing," Reynolds said. "I want you to pretend to date him. Public appearances, photos."

Elena stared. "You can't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious," Reynolds replied. "Your presence lends stability."

"And if I refuse?" Elena challenged.

"Other options might not favor Leo's career... or yours."

Elena's mind raced. *Blackmail.* "Fine. But I have conditions."

"Name them," Reynolds said.

"Strictly professional. I control the narrative. Ends when Leo's back."

Reynolds nodded. "Agreed. I'll let Leo know."

The first test came at a charity gala. Elena wore a midnight-blue gown, Leo a tailored tuxedo. As they entered, all eyes turned to them.

"You look beautiful," Leo murmured. Elena shivered.

"Don't get ideas," she warned. "Just for show."

Leo chuckled. "Relax, doc. I know the rules."

They mingled, posed. Leo played the doting boyfriend, his hand on her back. *He's good,* Elena thought. *Too good.*

As champagne flowed, Elena enjoyed Leo's company more than she cared to admit. On the dance floor, he pulled her close, his thumb tracing circles. Her breath caught.

*Bad idea,* her mind screamed. Leo's eyes darkened. "Elena," he murmured, voice rough.

"Leo," she whispered. They stood frozen, bodies pressed together. The air crackled.

Elena pulled away. "I need air." Leo nodded, breathing ragged.

On the balcony, Elena leaned against the railing, mind reeling. *Dangerous. Can't let this happen.*

But as she glanced at Leo, moonlight on his features, hunger in his eyes, she knew it was too late.

The third time she saw Leo Ashford, he was holding her on a moonlit balcony, heartbeat thundering, breath hot against her skin.

*God help me,* she thought. *What have I done?*

The third time she saw Leo Ashford, he was holding her on a moonlit balcony, heartbeat thundering, breath hot against her skin. *God help me,* she thought. *What have I done?*

His mouth crashed down on hers, all the pent-up tension exploding between them. Elena fisted her hands in his lapels, yanking him closer as her back hit the cold stone wall. Leo groaned, his tongue sweeping inside, claiming her with a ferocity that left her dizzy.

*This changes everything,* she realized, even as her body screamed for more. His hands were everywhere—gripping her hips, sliding up her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts through the silk of her gown. She arched into him, a whimper escaping.

"Inside," Leo growled against her throat. "Now."

They stumbled through the French doors into a dimly lit library, Leo kicking the door shut behind them. He spun her around, setting her on the edge of a mahogany desk as his mouth found the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

*We shouldn't,* her last shred of reason protested. But then he was rucking up her dress, fingers skimming her thighs, and all rational thought dissolved.

Elena woke to an insistent buzzing. She fumbled for her phone, disoriented by the rumpled sheets and the muscled arm draped over her waist. *Leo's arm.*

"Hello?" she mumbled, heart racing.

"Dr. Vance," Reynolds's voice crackled through the line. "My office. Now."

*Shit.* Elena slid out from under Leo's arm, grabbing her scattered clothing. *This is bad. So bad.*

In Reynolds's office, Elena braced for impact. "The board is questioning your methods," he said without preamble. "Concerns about your... unorthodox approach with Leo."

Elena's blood ran cold. "Unorthodox?"

"Getting personally involved with a patient," Reynolds clarified. "It's a conflict of interest."

*He knows.* Elena lifted her chin. "My methods are sound. Leo's recovery speaks for itself."

"Be that as it may," Reynolds said, "the board wants you off his case. Effective immediately."

Elena's fists clenched. "You can't do that. Not now, with the championship—"

"It's done," Reynolds cut her off. "Stay away from Leo, or face the consequences."

Elena stormed out, fury and betrayal warring within her. *I could lose everything.*

Weeks passed. Elena watched from afar as Leo returned to the court, his movements strong and sure. *My work,* she thought with a pang. *He's ready.*

The championship game arrived. Elena sat in the stands, heart in her throat as Leo led his team onto the court. *You've got this, Blaze.*

The game was brutal, physical. With seconds left on the clock, the score tied, Leo drove toward the basket—and went down hard, clutching his knee.

*No.* Elena was on her feet, rushing down the stairs before she could stop herself. She hit the court at a run, pushing past security to kneel at Leo's side.

"Talk to me," she said, hands already probing the joint. "Where does it—"

"Elena?" Leo stared at her, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving your career," she muttered, testing his range of motion. "It's not torn. Just a bad sprain."

Relief flooded Leo's face. "Thank God you're here."

Elena helped him to his feet, Leo's arm slung over her shoulders. As they hobbled off the court together, the crowd roared. Cameras flashed, capturing every moment.

In the locker room, Elena finished taping Leo's ankle. "You shouldn't be here," he said quietly. "Reynolds—"

"Reynolds can go to hell," Elena cut him off. "I'm your doctor. And I'm not letting you throw everything away."

Leo caught her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Elena, I—"

"Later," she said, squeezing his hand. "Go win this thing."

Leo nodded, determination in his eyes. He rejoined the game, playing through the pain, leading his team to a narrow victory.

Afterward, Leo found Elena in the hallway, sweeping her into his arms. "We did it," he murmured against her hair.

Elena laughed, dizzy with joy and relief. "You did it. I just patched you up."

Leo pulled back, cupping her face. "I love you," he said, the words raw and true. "I don't care who knows it."

He kissed her, deep and claiming, in front of reporters and cameras and the whole damn world. The headlines the next day were priceless: "BLAZE'S SECRET WEAPON: DOC VANCE STEALS HIS HEART."

Elena just smiled, shaking her head. *Secret's out now, Ashford.*

The third time she saw Leo Ashford, he was holding her on a moonlit balcony, heartbeat thundering, breath hot against her skin. *God help me,* she thought. *What have we done?*