Aftermath

London Collins.
I died at the age of twenty-six.
Or so I'd thought...
I didn't expect to be saved.
Not by anyone.
And I definitely didn't expect my savior to be Dr. Grant Benson.

A beautiful man...and a deeply wounded one.
The hard shell, the pain in his eyes, the absolute tenderness.

I was drawn to him like a sinner to a saint.
I craved absolution.
I craved penance.
I craved him.

Grant Benson
I swore I'd never feel anything.
Not for another person, not for another woman.
And not for London.

She was absolutely forbidden.
My patient.
And I'd taken an oath to do no harm.

Only loving her is a double-edged sword.
And for the first time since my heart shattered I can't put it down.
She thought I'd saved her,
but now she'd have to survive...me.