inai Hospital. Dressed in a tailored trench coat and oversized sungl
"I'd like a copy of my husband's, Dallas Barlow's, re
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Due to HIPAA regulations, I can't release any patie
ed, Katrina decided to go directly to
r here was different-hushed and sterile, the floors carpeted to muffle
ridors for Hoffman's nameplate when she too
coats emerged, deep in a serious discussion. They were clustered around
let them pass, her eyes
and a profile that looked like it had been carved from marble. He wore h
caught in
The man fr
ips. The sound, though quiet, was enough
piercing eyes swept past the other
gaze, followed by a flicker
r neck. Her first instinct was to flee. She t
Dr. Kensington," she said respectfully to the man
Kensington. The untouchable specialist Dall
n sabbatical. His case had been transferred to a brilliant young specialist
his. He was Dallas's doctor. The man she had
icians, who nodded and dispersed, leaving t
r, his long strides eating up the distance between them. The familiar scent of cedar
le expression. His eyes dipped briefly to her neck, where her coat had
ow," he said, his voice a low, intimate murmur. "
face. He knew. He had known
ice shaking with a mixture of anger and hum
t was almost a breath against her ear. "That nig
lute, burned her ch
e gestured with his head toward an office door at the end of the hall.
ntrance to a predator's den. But she had no choice. To ge
uddering breath,
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