This wasn’t the cold iceberg of a Valkyrie that Lauren had known in Toronto—that Tamsin was guarded and in a constant state of irritation. The woman standing before her now was desperate, her eyes wide and pleading Lauren for relief. She stormed out of the room, not bothering to wait for Lauren to answer.

Fate was vicious and adored a challenge.

How else could she explain the blinding anxiety that coursed through her, incited by the presence of her lost love—the very inspiration of longing and desire whose memories Lauren had hoped time would eventually ruin or make her forget. Even covered in muck, bruises, and cuts, Bo still enthralled her. Lauren reached for Bo’s slender hand and with the other, combed the dark strands of hair clinging to her cheeks. Why must you be so beautiful? Bo’s eyes were closed and her brow wrinkled in pain. Lauren choked on a bubble of laughter swelling within her throat, rueful and bitter, that, or she wanted to be sick. Her eyes roamed the promenade of curves—every graceful feature, lips pale and lovely. Every line that she had catalogued and put away stretched before her, dispelling any belief that she’d never see them again.

Not this way. Her mind raced, desperate to restore order within itself.

”Purely clinical,” Lauren told herself as she slowly undressed and neatly folded each piece of clothing as she removed them. The doctor had sheared away most of Bo’s clothing during the examination and it took only a matter of seconds to free her of the rest. Gingerly, (hyperaware of the broken body stretched before her as well as the beating heart she feared might break open) Lauren positioned herself over Bo, laying the full length of her body against her, flesh to flesh, heat to heat. Lauren parted her lips, took a quick breath, and traced her mouth along the profile of Bo’s neck, her jaw, beneath her chin. Please, feel me.

With every movement, her objectivity that this was a clinical procedure became less and less clear. Her senses filled with echoes of the familiar: the scent of Bo’s desire, the tender breath of love, the tangle of thoughts that scattered like stars with every touch. As her arousal intensified, Lauren fought the urge to weep.