By late afternoon, the hospital corridors had emptied slightly. The bustle of morning rounds and patient check-ins had given way to a quieter, more controlled rhythm. Ariana moved among the patients, steady, efficient, professional—but inside, she felt every heartbeat in sync with the one she could not stop thinking about: Mateo.She paused in the cardiology wing, adjusting an IV drip, trying to calm the residual heat that had built up during her earlier encounter with him. The brush of his fingers, the whisper of his lips along her neck, the way he claimed her so completely—it lingered like fire under her skin.A shadow fell across her workspace, subtle yet unmistakable. She looked up, already knowing who it would be. Mateo. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable, calm, and commanding all at once. His presence made the sterile corridor feel charged, electric, dangerous.“You’ve been productive,” he said quietly, voice low enough for only her
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