My Enchanting Doctor: Will You Heal This Frozen Heart Of Mine?

In the andrology department on the third floor of Apex Medical Center in Osebury, Ximena Hayes had only just lowered herself into her seat when the door was pushed open.

A broad-shouldered man stepped inside, his figure outlined by the glow from the corridor behind him.

Aydan Dixon wore a charcoal suit cut to perfection, his frame carved into a sharp V, his long strides carrying an unmistakable air of authority with every measured step.

When he moved fully into view, his features were revealed in clear detail, and even Ximena, seasoned from years of seeing all kinds of men, found herself quietly impressed.

What an absolute stunner!

Her eyes stayed on his face for a brief heartbeat before sliding downward to the clean line of his tailored slacks, eventually settling on a certain place.

What a shame!

Handsome, undeniably, yet perhaps not quite as formidable where it truly mattered.

Ximena lifted her gaze away, cleared her throat softly, and gestured toward the examination bed beside her, her voice level. "Lie down there and remove your trousers."

Aydan was struck speechless.

The atmosphere seemed to lock solid in an instant.

His expression cooled, his eyes sharpening into a frosted glare as they settled on the startlingly young woman before him, filled with appraisal and unmistakable suspicion.

She was dressed in a white coat, her hair secured in a sleek high ponytail that left her fresh, unadorned face exposed.

She looked barely past twenty, more like a trainee fresh from medical school than someone in charge.

"Where is Dr. Jeff Barnes?" Aydan asked, his tone quiet and edged with clear displeasure.

"Dr. Barnes was called into emergency surgery," Ximena answered evenly, holding his stare as she casually angled her badge toward him.

In bold black print, it displayed her title-Attending Physician: Ximena Hayes.

She inclined her head toward the examination bed and said, "I'm Dr. Hayes. I'm covering for Dr. Barnes today. Mr. Dixon, my schedule is tight, so please lie down and cooperate."

Aydan's brows drew together.

He had only come today because his grandfather, Hugh Dixon, had pressed him relentlessly.

Hugh, convinced that his nearly thirty-year-old grandson's complete indifference toward women must conceal some hidden defect, had insisted on a comprehensive checkup.

Hugh had reassured him again and again that Jeff was a trusted old friend and would guard his privacy without fail, so he could rest easy.

Yet now, the man meant to examine him had been replaced by a young woman instead of that long-standing friend?

Aydan's tolerance snapped; without another word, he pivoted toward the exit.

The entire appointment struck him as absurd.

"Mr. Dixon!" At the doorway, Colby Dawson, his assistant, hurried forward and blocked his path. "Your grandfather just called again, and he said that today... you must leave with the examination report in hand, otherwise..."

Colby swallowed, nerves evident in his voice as he finished, "Otherwise... he will personally come to supervise the examination..."

Personally supervise?

Aydan's striking features darkened like a sky before a storm.

He stood motionless, his temples pulsing sharply.

He could picture it perfectly-Hugh flanked by security, seated beside him, watching with doting interest as the examination unfolded with him bare from the waist down.

Aydan, twenty-eight years old and ruthless in the boardroom, suddenly found himself cornered in a way he rarely was.

He inhaled deeply, the breath heavy as if a stone had lodged beneath his ribs.

In the end, logic prevailed over pride.

With rigid steps, he approached the examination bed, each footfall grinding against what remained of his dignity.

"Lie down." Ximena's voice sounded once more, flat and unyielding.

Aydan said nothing as he lowered himself onto the bed.

The muscles beneath his suit were drawn tight, strained by sheer restraint.

Ximena slipped on a pair of medical gloves and moved closer, looking down at him with the detached focus one would give a training mannequin. "Remove your trousers. Must I repeat myself?"

His jaw tightened visibly; he shut his eyes and drew a slow breath before undoing his belt with abrupt force.

Then came the zipper.

During the entire ordeal, he kept his head turned aside, his gaze fixed on the anatomical chart mounted on the wall, as though sheer intensity might scorch through it.

The instant he sensed Ximena's attention shifted to him, his body went rigid as stone.

"Relax," she said evenly. "Remaining tense will interfere with the results."

Relax?

Aydan nearly lost his breath at the suggestion.

He felt as though he were hanging by a thread, and this woman was calmly instructing him to relax?

Unmoved by his inner chaos, Ximena proceeded with the assessment.

Her actions were efficient and clinical, without the slightest hesitation.

Her gloved fingers applied precise pressure as she examined him carefully.

For her, it was merely another case in a long work day.

For him, each passing second stretched into punishment.

And the most uncomfortable part had not even begun.

As she worked, she initiated the routine line of questioning. "Do you keep a consistent daily routine?"

"Yes." The word emerged through clenched teeth.

"Do you experience morning erections?"

Aydan's temple throbbed sharply.

The question sent a flush creeping along his sharply defined profile, yet he forced out the answer. "Yes."

Ximena gave a small nod, unsurprised, and continued, "When was your most recent sexual encounter?"

The consultation room dropped into a suffocating hush.

Aydan snapped his head around, fury blazing in his eyes as he fixed Ximena with a hard stare.

Ximena returned the look with steady composure, her gaze cool and clinical, as though silently prompting him to answer.

After an agonizing stretch of silence, Aydan forced out the strained words, "I haven't had any."

"Really?" Ximena's voice lifted just a notch, carrying a flicker of curiosity.

As she made notes in the chart, she continued, "Extended periods of abstinence or intense psychological pressure can sometimes trigger functional complications. That said, Mr. Dixon, judging from today's assessment, your physical condition is outstanding, so there's no cause for unnecessary concern."

Aydan was rendered mute.

Outstanding... physical... condition?

Did this woman have any idea what she was saying?

Ximena finally pulled her hand away, peeled off her gloves, and dropped them neatly into the disposal bin.

"Alright, Mr. Dixon, the examination is finished. You may get dressed now." She pivoted back to her desk, picked up her pen, and began filling out the file with brisk precision.

That cool professionalism stung Aydan far more than any outright insult could have.

He hopped off the examination bed and dressed with unprecedented speed.

Once his clothes were in place, Aydan slipped back into his usual detached facade, though the tight set of his jaw and the gloom in his eyes exposed just how wretched he felt.

He told himself this ridiculous ordeal was finally at an end.

All he needed was that cursed report to placate Hugh, and then he could wipe this entire day-and the very existence of a doctor named Hayes-from his mind.

But Ximena's next statement dragged him straight back into misery.

"Mr. Dixon, your preliminary physical evaluation is complete." She paused, and then added, "However, based on palpation results and your subtle physiological responses, I suggest checking your serum testosterone levels and conducting a nerve conduction test."

Aydan's brows knitted tightly, impatience flaring. "What exactly are you implying?"

"In simpler terms," Ximena answered evenly, "there may be functional irregularities present."

"No way." Aydan shot back almost on reflex.

He had always carried unshakable confidence, whether in the boardroom or... elsewhere.

A lack of interest in women did not equate to an inability to perform sexually.

Ximena appeared to expect his reaction and chose not to debate him.

Instead, she slid a blank test request across the desk. "In the end, results speak louder than assumptions. Mr. Dixon, do you place your faith in intuition, or in empirical evidence?"

Aydan locked eyes with her unnervingly calm face, searching for the slightest crack in her certainty.

There was none.

Her expression remained firm, impartial, and clinical.

Aydan suddenly remembered the intermittent back aches and persistent fatigue he had brushed off as overwork...

Was it possible something was actually wrong?

After a brief struggle with himself, he seized the form and left the consultation room without a word.

Outside, Colby took one look at his boss's grim expression and felt a chill crawl up his spine, yet he still stepped forward. "Mr. Dixon, how did it go? Did everything proceed smoothly?"

Aydan flicked him a frigid glance, offered no reply, and marched straight toward the laboratory.

Colby watched his rigid, purposeful figure disappear down the corridor, his pulse racing.

That did not look like the aftermath of good news.

The following hour dragged on longer than any Aydan had ever endured.

Blood was drawn, time crawled by in the waiting area, and eventually the report was handed to him.

When he returned to Ximena's office with the results, his entire presence radiated icy restraint.

The room was empty of other patients.

Ximena appeared to be expecting him; her desk was immaculate save for his file.

Aydan slammed the report down, the motion charged with barely contained rage.

Ximena picked it up and reviewed it with meticulous focus.

Seconds slipped past.

Aydan studied her relentlessly, alert to every minute shift in her expression.

At last, Ximena placed the report aside and met his gaze. "As anticipated, Mr. Dixon, the findings indicate mild neurogenic erectile dysfunction."

Neurogenic... erectile dysfunction?

Despite bracing himself for bad news, the official diagnosis left Aydan's thoughts ringing hollow.

"The underlying factors are multifaceted-likely prolonged stress and excessive workload disrupting the neural pathways responsible for erectile function. The good news is that it's been identified early and remains mild, meaning it can be completely resolved through structured medication and physiotherapy."

With a grave look, Aydan asked hoarsely, "What's the treatment plan?"

"I'll prepare a comprehensive diagnostic summary along with a tailored treatment regimen." Ximena spoke while typing, the printer soon humming to life. "Dr. Barnes will supervise your follow-up care personally. He's a leading specialist in this area, so you can be confident in the outcome."

Jeff?

Aydan's eyebrows knitted together at once.

He understood all too well the influence Jeff carried, but the problem was that he didn't want this situation known to anyone-anyone at all-other than the woman standing in front of him.

The Dixon family's sprawling business world was tangled with hidden alliances and quiet rivalries, and as the designated successor, every step he took was watched, dissected, and judged.

This secret-one that struck directly at his pride as a man-could be seized by adversaries and used to destabilize his standing within Dixon Group if even the faintest hint escaped.

Under no circumstances could it reach the ears of the Dixon family's private medical staff.

Those physicians answered to the entire family, and there was no way to know where their loyalties truly lay. Confidentiality simply didn't exist with them.

That was precisely why Hugh had arranged for Aydan to see his trusted confidant in the first place.

And yet, his most humiliating and deeply personal truth had already been uncovered by this woman named Ximena.

Involving Jeff now would only multiply the danger.

More importantly, the full evaluation-from the initial checks to the final verdict-had been carried out by her alone.

To start over with another doctor who knew nothing, and endure that degrading ordeal once more?

The mere idea sent Aydan's anger surging dangerously close to eruption.

"These are for you." Ximena gathered several pages, along with the medical file and lab reports, slipped them into a manila folder, and passed it to him. "Mr. Dixon, everything is here. You can bring these to Dr. Barnes tomorrow."

After that, she glanced at her watch, rose from her seat, and shrugged out of her white coat.

"I'm done for the day." She lifted her bag, clearly intending to head out.

Aydan didn't reach for the folder on the table. Instead, he raised his eyes and locked them onto her. "You're not leaving."

Ximena halted, turning back with clear confusion in her expression. "Mr. Dixon, my shift is over."

"I said you're not leaving." Aydan stood, his tall frame radiating an oppressive force as he moved toward her.

The consultation room door slammed behind him, and he even turned the lock.

The already narrow room instantly filled with strain and hostility.

Ximena frowned. She had dealt with her fair share of difficult patients, but none who radiated such overwhelming dominance paired with such erratic conduct.

Folding her arms, she looked at him, impatience edging into her tone. "Mr. Dixon, what exactly are you doing? Unlawfully holding a doctor-do you realize what that implies?"

Aydan simply let out a cold laugh. He stopped directly in front of her, staring down with undisguised superiority. "You diagnosed me."

"And?" Ximena held his gaze steadily, without flinching.

Aydan lowered his voice, slow and resolute, as though delivering a final decree. "And you should also be the one who sees it through. You will handle my treatment."

Ximena scoffed at the sheer absurdity of it.

In all her years practicing medicine, she had never encountered a demand so domineering and unreasonable.

"Mr. Dixon, let me be clear-this is a hospital, not your corporation, and I do not work for you." She continued flatly, "My responsibility was to diagnose and file the report, and that task is finished. Your continued care will be overseen by Dr. Barnes, a specialist fully qualified for this case, which is the best possible arrangement. Now please step aside. I'm leaving."

"I said you're responsible," Aydan repeated stubbornly, completely disregarding her explanation.

He refused to let others dictate his outcome, and even more so, he refused to expose his weakness to yet another person.

Annoying as this woman was, at least the secret remained confined to her alone-for now.

"Dr. Hayes." Aydan's voice turned icy, threaded with quiet threat. "You might want to rethink this. Dixon Group happens to be the largest shareholder of Apex Medical Center. Assigning you to oversee my care, or ensuring you're unemployed by tomorrow-either option takes one phone call from me."

An unmistakable threat.

For most young doctors dependent on their position, those words would have inspired panic.

But Ximena merely regarded him in silence for a moment, and then calmly set her bag back on the desk and leaned against it once more.

Crossing her arms, she looked up at the man who believed power bent everything to his will.

"Aydan Dixon." She spoke his full name evenly. "First, using influence to bully others is childish. Second, I'm not only a physician-I'm also a specially appointed visiting professor here. If I were to leave, the loss wouldn't be mine-it would be the hospital's."

She paused, her eyes briefly tracing the rigidly handsome lines of his face.

Then she added without embellishment, "And at this moment, you're the one who needs me, not the reverse. If you want assistance, you should learn how to ask properly."

Aydan was stunned into silence.

A professor?

He stared at her remarkably young features, unable for a heartbeat to reconcile them with that title.

Also, her comment about manners struck him like a sharp slap.

He had never pleaded with anyone.

And yet, he had no rebuttal.

She was right.

He was the one who was unwell, and he was the one who required a physician capable of absolute discretion-and competence.

At present, this woman was his sole option, and unmistakably, his best one.