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I knew exactly who she was. And I wanted her more because of it. Polina’s hospital has a strict visitor policy, and I’ve never followed it. We argued last night, and she hung up on me. On the surface, it was about my schedule. The trips that keep getting longer. The meetings I can’t explain. The calls I take in the other room. But that’s not really what we were fighting about. What we were actually fighting about is the thing we still haven’t said out loud: we both know exactly what our names mean, and pretending otherwise is getting harder to maintain. So I show up at Moscow General at 7:45 a.m. with two coffees and no good reason for why I can’t let it sit. A nurse tells me to wait. Two minutes later, Polina opens the side corridor door. The look on her face is the best and worst thing I’ve seen all week. Fury first. Then something underneath it she covers too late. “You cannot be here,” she says. “And yet.” I hold out the coffee. She doesn’t take it. “I’m serious, Lev. My colleagues will start talking.” “Then take me somewhere they won’t.” Her jaw tightens. Then she takes the coffee and leads me down the corridor to an empty exam room. The second I step inside, I lock the door behind me. She turns on me. “This is insane. You know that?” “You hung up on me.” “You were being evasive.” “The trips are getting longer because the situation is moving faster than I planned. I can’t tell you more than that right now.” I take a step closer. “And I think we both know why.” She looks away, weighing that. When she looks back at me, the anger is still there, but something else has settled underneath it. Decision. Want. She lifts her chin the way she always does when she wants something and refuses to ask for it. I’ve been watching her do that for weeks. We haven’t crossed the line since the night I had her shaking under my hand in this hospital. I told myself I was waiting for her to be ready. But right now, in a locked room, in her hospital, with that look on her face, I decide I’m done waiting. I step into her space. She doesn’t move. “Tell me to leave.” “You need to—” “Make sure you mean it, Polina.” But her gaze is already on my belt. Her hand moves before the words do, hooking in the leather and dragging me closer. “We are not doing this here,” she says, pulling me in anyway. A grin pulls at my mouth. “In your hospital? You sure about that, Doctor?” “Tell me that again,” she says, already working my... Read FREE in Kindle Unlimited >> https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GP1TF33Q