er neck stood up. She followed the sound of that chi

pped into

tom black Tom Ford suit that clung to his muscular frame with lethal precision. The momen

ssing himself against the wall. He bowed his h

been carved from marble-sharp jawline, straight nose, and eyes so dark they looked like bottomle

to her test kit. He raised his right hand. His long, eleg

rself on, Doctor?" he asked. His voice was a low

palms to stop her hands from shaking. "The results are conclusive,"

r of the man's mouth. The amuseme

led violently as she reached out and took it. Jarrod Holt. CEO, Holt Enterprises. The air left Kassie's lungs in a violent rush. Her brain short-circuited. A loud, high-pitched ringing filled her ears. Then, he l

ing heat. Her stomach dropped so fast she felt physically sick. She had assaulte

cking the panic spreading across her pa

Holt family," Jarrod stated, his tone ice-cold. "A

ht. She snatched the manila folder from the counter and

hands, and ripped it entirely in half. The sound of tearing paper ech

a step

nctively too

king her up until her shoulder blades hit t

logne invading her senses. "Prepare yourself, Dr. Moody," he whispered, his breath bru

. She was trapped. His physical proximity was overwhelm

e stood up straight, his hands

iness-like cadence. "If you wish to avoid spending the nex

d to his face. "Wha

looked out the large glass window

anded. "You are coming with me.

his pillow. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Sh

bbed her faded canvas tote bag, and walk

ing stares of the nurses and hospital executives. They watched in stunned sile