Chapter 43

Michael's Point of View

She was spectacular.

A lithe runner's body. Silky hair darker than a raven's wing. Piercing blue eyes that left me gasping every time I stared into them.

Bottled lightning. The kind that I had never found before.

And when I pressed her backside into me, breathed in her smell, I thought my entire world might fall apart right then and there.

How I managed to speak at all was beyond me.

The director of special forces would never have been so disarmed by someone's mere presence. Not even to mention the way my body screamed at me to be near her. Touch her. Run my hand through her hair and hear my name whispered on her lips.

All my future plans melted away in that moment alone. Dissipated with zero effort.

But I had forgotten about her other hand. Still free. Still deadly. And the fucking thing found my side easily enough. A sharp-tipped finger pierced between the two plates of my armor. The only vulnerable seam in my entire get-up.

I hissed out a breath and let her