Page 5 of Ice Cold Hearts

LaRue—in the system under mother’s maiden name (Kozlov) for security purposes.

The name is familiar, but I’m not sure why.

With my face still buried in the chart, I shoulder open the door.

“Mr. Kozlov, I'm Emily and I'll be your physical therapist to?—”

The rest of the sentence dies in my throat as I look up from the chart.

All the blood drains from my face.

I might not know why this man is famous, but I recognize him instantly.

He’s the jerk I'd just been screaming at in the parking lot.

2

ALEXEI

Ihate wearing sunglasses inside. It makes me look like an asshole.

I can almost hear my father saying, “We must be respectful inside, mon petit chou.”

My little cabbage. I couldn’t stand being called that as a kid, but I’d give everything I had just to hear him say it one more time.

Under the cover of the mirrored shades, I scan the room and what little I can see of the outside corridor.

No reporters.

I haven’t been followed. The close call in the parking lot made me more paranoid than usual. I’d been so sure she was a reporter.

Well, I had been until she tore me a new one. It was kind of refreshing to be treated like a regular guy by a stranger. I should feel worse than I do for being such an ass, but I had thoroughly enjoyed my encounter with her. There was only one thing that bothered me about the whole thing. What the hell was an ilium?

Maybe I’ll ask the physical therapist. I’m sure they’ll know. I’d rather not take the risk of searching for a random body part on the internet.

I shudder internally at the thought.

A familiar voice interrupts my thoughts. “Mr. Kozlov, I'm Emily and I'll be your physical therapist to?—”

I use her stunned silence as an opportunity to get a look at her. The makeup splotched across every inch of her face makes it hard to get an accurate read on those features.

Maybe she moonlights as a party clown? Jenna did say I might have to wait a while when we talked on the phone. That might have been what she was doing before this.

The most garish makeup in the world couldn’t distract from her perfectly shaped mouth, graceful neck, or curves that put the Lely Venus to shame. I can say that with some authority, too. I saw it in person when I went to the British Museum.

Her scrubs hide a good portion of her figure, but it only makes me more interested in what’s underneath. Is she a lace-at-work type? Or maybe she’s all business beige here with a drawer full of dainty little nothings I can rip off her or shove to the side when I?—

The receptionist clears his throat, startling the both of us.

I recover first.

“It’s nice to meet you again, Emily,” I say coolly.

A flush creeps over her cheeks. Or at least I think it does. It’s hard to tell under the large splotches of neon-red blush on her cheeks. It doesn’t last long before she dives under a professional mask. Her cool self-control is a stark contrast to the feisty woman in the parking lot. I wonder what it will take for that self-control to break.

“If you follow me to my office, sir, we can discuss your treatment plan in detail,” she says politely and beckons me to follow her.

The sway of her hips is hypnotizing.

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