Marry First, Love Later

'Who the hell are you? What are you doing? Let go, mm-'

Callie's protest was silenced by the man's rough hand clamped over her mouth.

Who would've thought that after finishing her night shift and returning home, she'd get ambushed right at her doorstep!

No black belt in self-defence here, but if this guy thought she'd be easy prey, he was dead wrong!

Callie swallowed hard and chomped down on the man's palm, hoping to inflict some serious pain.

To her surprise, the man didn't even flinch, not even a tiny groan.

Instead, he tightened his grip.

What was wrong with this guy?

Maybe her bite wasn't quite 'chompy' enough?

Just as Callie geared up for another bite, she heard approaching footsteps and men's voices.

More accomplices?

Since when did muggers operate in groups?

A man's slightly nasal voice said, 'I just got word from HQ. He killed Viper! This time, we can't let him slip away.'

'Don't worry! He's wounded, ain't going far.'

'But if he does escape, we're screwed!'

.

Callie's heart pounded so loudly in her chest, she was surprised the men didn't hear it.

Wait, could the 'he' they were talking about be the jerk holding her hostage right now?

Unbelievable! Not only was he injured, but he was also on the run for murder-wait!

So this wasn't a mugging?

But that didn't make Callie feel any better.

If anything, it was worse.

This guy might just kill her to cover his tracks!

Just as Callie was panicking, the man leaned close to her ear.

His voice was hushed and ice cold, devoid of emotion. 'Play along. Or both of us die here tonight.'

Play along? With what?

The man didn't give Callie time to react.

The moment he finished speaking, he spun Callie around to face him, his hands firmly pressing her against the wall.

Callie was trapped between his warm chest and the cold concrete surface, with no wiggle room.

And then he forcefully claimed her lips, swallowing her objections.

What in the world was happening?

Callie's eyes widened in disbelief, and she wanted to resist, but the man had arms like steel cables, bulging with strength.

Plus, the conversation she'd overheard and the man's not-so-thinly-veiled threat gave her pause.

Perhaps it was best to play along, for now.

Reluctantly, Callie placed her hands on the man's back, seizing the opportunity to give him a hard pinch.

Apart from the scowl on her face, the scene between them almost looked like some kind of wild, hungry lovers going at it in the dead of night.

'Jesus, please, make time fly!' Callie prayed silently.

As the footsteps drew near, her heart jumped from her chest into her throat.

Suddenly, she felt the man's strong hands move to her back and ripped her blouse apart with one swift move.

'Bastard!' Callie pounded his back, eyes blazing with anger.

Exposed to the chilly night air, she felt goosebumps crawling up her skin.

The man didn't make a sound, his lips still glued to hers.

Ignoring her frustration, he just kept going, making the fake make-out scene even more intense.

Their bodies were bathed in moonlight, creating a passionate tableau.

The man cupped Callie's face with both hands and pushed her deeper into the shadow cast by the wall.

'What's going on over there?'

'Can't you tell? They're getting frisky!'

'Still staring? Stop it! This is no time to get horny.'

'I just want to see who's the lucky guy. Damn, that's some slick move! Gotta try it sometime!'

'Don't disturb them. We'll be in deep shit if the lovebirds call the cops.'

Gradually, the footsteps faded away.

With the coast clear, Callie gave the man a hard shove.

She wasn't surprised to see the dark liquid seeping from the midsection of his shirt; she had detected the familiar copper smell of blood the moment the man came close.

Callie gently brushed her lips, their swollenness testament to the intense encounter with the stranger.

She wiped them with the back of her hand, her eyes narrowing as she finally got a good look at him.

His hair tousled by the wind, his eyes holding a glimmer of wariness, the man exuded an air of danger and aloofness that sent shivers down her spine.

And yet, there was something mesmerising about those cold, piercing eyes.

Callie had never come across such a captivatingly dangerous man before.

Even the air around him seemed degrees colder.

Elias Westwood was sizing her up just as she was him.

Callie noticed a subtle change in his expression as his gaze lingered on her.

It was a mix of surprise and something else she couldn't quite place.

Elias hadn't expected to cross paths with her here, in this moment.

It seemed that she didn't recognise him at all.

As guilty as he felt for forcing a kiss upon a stranger, as a way to throw off his pursuers, he couldn't deny the jolt of joy when he realised it was her.

At the same time, he was concerned.

The men after him wouldn't think twice about eliminating witnesses, even if they were innocent civilians.

Elias blinked and was about to speak, but dark spots started swimming in front of his eyes.

Wounded, bleeding and hunted, he had been running on fumes, powered by nothing but survival instinct and adrenaline.

But now that the immediate danger had passed, he couldn't hold on any longer.

His consciousness slipped away, and he collapsed.

'Hey!' Callie gave a yelp of alarm.

Her knees buckled with the stranger's 6 feet 3 inches frame weighing down on her, making it hard to breathe.

Callie let out an expletive.

Not only had the bastard kissed her, but he had also torn her clothes apart.

Now he conveniently passed out without even an apology.

The thought of it made anger well up within her, tempting her to abandon him right then and there.

Yet, she hesitated when she considered the wound in his abdomen.

She was a doctor, after all.

Despite her distaste for his cold, domineering manners, Callie couldn't stand by and watch him bleed to death.

Besides, there was a certain fearlessness in his actions, a determination to shield her from harm.

Callie sighed, giving in to her better judgment.

Suppressing the urge to leave him behind, she decided to carry him back to her place.

Despite the cool, drizzling autumn night, beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she struggled under the weight of his unconscious body.

By the time she manoeuvred him onto the bed, her face glistened with perspiration, and she was panting heavily.

But Callie didn't allow herself much rest.

She bent down, pulling out the emergency medical kit stowed beneath the bed.

Initially, she had planned to rip open his blood-soaked shirt just as he had done to hers, but her strength failed her.

With a sigh, she resorted to cutting his shirt open with a pair of scissors.

As Callie glanced down, she was met with a sight that almost drew a wolf whistle from her.

From a doctor's perspective, the man's physique embodied near perfection, a testament to dedication and hard work.

His shoulders were broad and muscular, with well-developed deltoid muscles giving them a rounded appearance.

His arms showcased strong biceps and triceps, exhibiting a noticeable size and definition.

The forearm muscles were well-toned, displaying strength and muscularity.

His chest was broad and well-developed, with sculpted pectoral muscles that were firm and toned.

The abdominal region featured a defined six-pack, with an enticing V-shape tapering down to his waist.

However, the otherwise perfect body was marred by at least half a dozen scars etched across it, with a two-inch long gash below his left sternum, still bleeding.

Old wounds, now healed, but still visible, spoke volumes about the tumultuous experiences he had endured.

Callie's eyes were drawn to a gunshot wound, a mere half-inch from his heart, a perilous reminder of how close he had come to losing his life.

The bullet must have torn right through his body, leaving a star-shaped scar both front and back.

Despite working at a hospital affiliated with the army, she had never personally treated a patient with a gunshot wound or witnessed such an injury before.

All her knowledge was limited to what she had read in medical textbooks.

Callie couldn't fathom who had tended to this wound, but one thing was certain: even with a skilled surgeon, this man's survival was nothing short of a miracle.

The scars raised more questions.

Within the borders of Engalia, guns were strictly prohibited for civilians.

For this man to be tangled up with folks who had firearms, he was either one of the angels-law enforcement or military, or one of the bad guys.

His ambush of her pointed the possibility to the latter, but the lack of any real harm done to her pointed to the former.

For some inexplicable reason, Callie couldn't resist the compulsion to touch the star-shaped scar.

Her fingertips tingled from the warmth radiating from the man's chest, as a fever coursed through his body.

The man was an enigma.

How did he end up with such a severe abdominal wound, likely made by the tip of a sharp dagger?

Who were those assailants after him, and why?

A barrage of questions swirled in Callie's mind, her suspicions growing with each passing moment.

Despite her doubts, though, Callie's duty as a doctor overrode any judgments.

Regardless of his past, she was determined to do her best to treat him.

She brushed aside thoughts of his identity, focusing on her role as a healer.

With steady hands, she applied a clean gauze to the bleeding gash, desperate to stem the flow of blood.

The pain from her action failed to rouse the unconscious man or elicit even a groan, but his hand instinctively gripped her wrist with a strength that felt capable of crushing her bones.

Callie winced, but didn't pull away.

She continued to apply pressure to his wound, determined to save his life.

Only when she removed the blood-soaked gauze did he release his grip, allowing her a brief respite.

Massaging her sore wrist, Callie continued her task, threading a needle and skilfully stitching up the wound.

Luckily, the man remained still this time, allowing her to swiftly close the wound and wrap it with a bandage.

Exhausted, Callie slumped against the edge of the bed, gazing at the unconscious stranger.

He had a handsome face, but she was in no mood to appreciate its striking masculine beauty.

'You had the nerve to assault me and ruin my clothes!' Her voice, hoarse with fatigue, held a mix of annoyance and weariness. 'If you weren't injured and passed out, I'd send you straight to the police!'

Her body ached from the ordeal of carrying a man twice her size and treating his wounds.

Callie couldn't fight off the urge to rest any longer and soon succumbed to sleep, her weary body finding solace on the edge of the bed.

***

The moment dawn broke, Elias jolted awake, his eyes darting around the room, taking in the unfamiliar sight of pastel pink walls.

A touch to his bandaged abdomen confirmed that someone had tended to his wound.

Turning his gaze, he discovered Callie slumped against the bed, sleeping soundly.

Her breaths were even, and her long lashes fluttered with each inhale.

There were dark circles under her eyes; last night's events must have drained her.

Without any makeup, her lips, slightly swollen, retained a captivating cherry-red hue, enticing him to lean closer and steal a taste.

In slumber, her face lost the guardedness she displayed when awake, revealing innocence and vulnerability.

She must have foregone involving the police, instead taking it upon herself to nurse him back to health.

Which was just like her, Elias thought with a smile.

She was the kind of woman who would go out of her way to save a stranger, just like she did the first time they met.

Elias's eyes zeroed in on a dark bruise marring her pale wrist.

It was a stark reminder of the pain he had caused her unintentionally, when his mind was fogged by agony.

Elias touched her wrist, feeling guilty.

Though she didn't recognise him, he remembered her very well.

He couldn't resist the urge to caress her lips gently, savouring the memory of their sweet taste from last night.

But his touch interrupted Callie's peaceful slumber, and she responded by biting down on his finger in annoyance.

Surprisingly, the sensation sent a jolt of arousal through Elias, his body instinctively responding before his mind could process the complex mix of emotions coursing through him.

Reluctantly, Elias withdrew his hand.

He got out of bed and stood.

She was still wearing the same blouse from the night before.

Its back was ripped open, exposing her fair skin to his view.

Elias swallowed hard and forced himself to look away, a difficult task.

At the same time, he couldn't help but feel a little exasperated.

In her eyes, he was but a stranger.

Did she always let down her guard like this in front of strangers?

Baffled by her audacity, Elias frowned, but he couldn't bring himself to disturb her rest.

Gently, he lifted her and settled her comfortably onto the bed, draping a cute quilt with little pandas over her.

Her petite frame felt light as a feather in his arms.

Glancing at the drizzle outside, Elias knew the rain last night had likely erased his tracks and thrown off his assailants from the Misehell Organisation.

Yet, he couldn't stay here.

Her safety was at risk if he lingered.

Just as he was about to leave, a photo frame sticking out from the trash can caught his eye-a picture of Callie with another man, leaning into his arms, looking radiant with joy.

A feeling Elias had never experienced surged within him, and he longed to know what it was like to be genuinely happy like that.

With a final look at Callie, Elias left, closing the door gently on his way out.

***

Callie awoke in a daze, only to find herself in her own bed.

The stranger was gone, leaving her both puzzled and relieved.

But something bothered her more-how had she ended up on the bed, covered with the quilt?

She couldn't remember doing that herself, which meant the stranger must have done it.

As she pulled away the thin quilt, she realised the sorry state of her clothes, barely hanging onto her body.

Her frustration grew at the realisation that the stranger might have seen her nearly naked.

'Ugh! I'm never buying anything from that online boutique again!' Callie ground her teeth, furious.

Why were her clothes so easy to tear, while his seemed indestructible?

Right then, Callie's phone rang, jolting her from her thoughts.

Callie dug around the pile of quilts until she'd unearthed her phone.

'Hey, Cece, I've set up a blind date for you. You better go and give it a shot!' The voice on the other end belonged to Lily Hartwell, Callie's best friend and a B-list actress.

'Hey, Lilypad!' Callie made a valiant effort to change the subject. 'So, what exotic location are you off to this time for your ad shoot? Can you hook me up with some freebies? I need them for the orphanage-'

Lily cut her off with a booming voice, 'Quit dodging the topic, Callista Hawthorne! I've set you up on a blind date. You better show up, got it?'

Callie yawned and grumbled, 'Lily, seriously? I'm only twenty-five. Why do you always act like my mom and meddle in my love life?

'If I had a clueless daughter like you, I'd give her a good shake.' Lily's words dripped with sarcasm. 'How can I meddle in your love life when you don't even have one?'

'I had one,' Callie protested.

'Notice the use of past tense.' It sounded like Lily was grinding her teeth. 'That jerk Simon cheated on you, and now he has the nerve to invite you to his wedding. Don't you think it's time to show him what he's missing? Going alone would be admitting defeat. Not going is even worse, and I know you're better than that.'

Simon.

The name brought on a fresh wave of pain Callie thought she had long put behind her.

Simon Moncrieff was her colleague at Rosedale Hospital and her boyfriend for three years.

Well, ex-boyfriend now.

He also held the dubious title of 'jerkwad,' in Lily's words, which had been upgraded to 'Scoundrel Supreme' status after he broke up with Callie, betraying her trust by having an affair with the hospital director's daughter.

The wounds were still fresh, but revenge wasn't as simple as it seemed.

Callie struggled to find the right words, but Lily seemed pressed for time. 'Listen, I have to go now. I'll have my assistant send you the details for the blind date later. You may act tough, but don't think you can hide under your covers and cry just because I'm out of town. Stay strong, my girl!'

With that, she abruptly hung up, leaving Callie with teary-eyed frustration.

How did Lily always manage to see through her defences when she wasn't even in the room?

Callie fell back into bed, staring at the ceiling.

She had turned down other blind dates in the past, but this time, she couldn't refuse.

It was Lily's way of looking out for her.

***

Time marched on.

The enigmatic stranger from that fateful night had vanished without a trace, as if he were a figment of Callie's imagination.

Her demanding work as a surgical resident left her no room to dwell on him anyway-morning rounds at 6:30 am, assisting in surgeries from 7:30 till 11:30, afternoon clinics and consultations from 1 pm, then afternoon rounds at 3:00, followed by medical conferences at 5:00.

Meanwhile, Simon and Abby, his fiancée, seemed to revel in flaunting their relationship in front of Callie.